


Anyone Can Be an Asshole

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, High School, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:32:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle comes back from six years at an elite east coast boarding school, and burnout Kenny is determined to impress him. When watching My Fair Lady on repeat isn't enough, he asks for Wendy's help in becoming someone Kyle will respect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anyone Can Be an Asshole

_Anyone can be an asshole._

_A cousin can be an asshole._

_A postman can be an asshole._

_A rabbit can be an asshole._

_A teacher can be an asshole._

 

Kenny slowly flipped through the detailed illustrations of his children’s Christmas story. The art could have been considered very impressive if Kenny hadn’t worked in lewd pairs of tits whenever possible.

This assignment was, as Jimmy aptly put it, ruh-ruh-retarded. Maybe it had been charming when they were in fourth grade, but the school had decided they liked having the children write Christmas tales so much that they made it an annual tradition for every grade. Never mind secularism. It was Christmastime.

Kenny’s teacher, Ms. Carter, cleared her throat nervously. He turned away from the storybook to give her an innocent look. “Is everything okay?”

She looked around the room nervously. She had made it through a semester with the worst class imaginable, and Kenny was mildly impressed by how well she had stood up to bullying considering how awkward and desperately polite she was all the time. “Well, Kenny, this is supposed to be a _Christmas_ story.”

He held up a hand to her calmingly. “Don’t worry, Ms. Carter. I got this one.” He flipped to the next page of his book, which showed jolly old Santa and his worker elves buzzing around the factory.

_Santa can be an asshole._

_His elves can be assholes._

Ms. Carter cleared her throat again, and Kenny cast her a sympathetic glance. If she couldn’t get through his story, she’d never make it alive through Cartman’s. She had come so far without him breaking her spirit. Kenny would really hate to see it happen during Christmas. “I’d also like to remind you that you were not allowed to coauthor this book.”

Token lazily glanced up from his seat. “But Kenny can’t write, and I can’t draw?”

Kenny nodded enthusiastically.  “We came together to make something beautiful!”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you finish reading _Everyone Can Be an Asshole_. It’s simply not appropriate.”

Kenny looked at her with utter dejection. He didn’t want to read a story. He didn’t even want to write it, but he had written it. He hadn’t come this far to not be able to share his best story yet with the class.

Ms. Carter twitched as if she couldn’t stay strong under the stress of disappointing Kenny. “I suppose you can finish. It’s only a few more pages, right?”

He nodded happily and reopened the story book.

_“Jesus can be an asshole.”_

Ms. Carter inhaled sharply through her teeth, but she remained silent. Kenny stole a few glances at her as he persisted with what he’d promised was only a few more pages. She breathed an audible sigh of relief as a knock interrupted them at the door.

It swung open without invitation, and another boy strode confidently into the room. He didn’t even pause as he walked in front of Kenny, and he handed a note to Ms. Carter wordlessly.

Kenny couldn’t help but stare. It probably wasn’t even inappropriate to stare; everyone else in the class was too. Who was this twat, and what was he doing at South Park? He wore plaid pants, and Kenny suspected he would have been wearing Nantucket reds if they didn’t clash so horribly with his red hair. His belt had whales on it. Kenny couldn’t remember the name of the shoe brand, but he knew it was one of that overpriced “buy a pair of shoes, and we’ll give one to charity!” bullshit.

He didn’t want to seem like a hick who automatically turned against everyone not like him, but this kid was definitely not one of them. South Park was no place for overachievers. They didn’t have recess or a playground anymore, but hopefully someone would beat him up after school.

The other boy didn’t seem to care at all about everyone’s frosty welcome. He kept his eyes on the table, reading the note along with Ms. Carter, glancing up only to meet specifically Stan’s eyes. Stan might have been the one to look out of place in the classroom under any different circumstances – he wore ironed jeans, a letterman jacket, and impeccably white sneakers everyday. His athleticism was nothing compared to preppy and pretentious strangers. Kenny saw the boy shoot him a nervous grin, and Stan grinned back.

Ms. Carter finished skimming the note and looked up to the class. “Alright, class, we have a new student joining us after winter break, so he’s taking today to acclimate. I trust everyone will be on their best behavior.” She glared around the classroom meaningfully. “Please welcome Kyle to our class.”

Kenny almost dropped the book he’d been reading. Was that name coincidental? A million people in the world were named Kyle.

“Kyle, do you have anything you want to say to your new classmates?” Ms. Carter urged happily.

Kyle swallowed and glanced around the room nervously, but his voice came out completely collected. “Hey, I’m Kyle. I went here before so I think I’ll be okay, Ms. Carter. I look forward to seeing everyone again.” He sounded like a politician when he spoke, and Kenny couldn’t detect any excitement in his voice.

Fuck that, dude, Kenny was excited.

He glanced over at Stan to see a huge grin spreading over his face. Kyle’s eyes flickered towards his and returned the smile for a second. He took the empty seat near Stan like he’d already jumped back in right where he left off.

Kenny had half expected Stan to disappear when Kyle switched schools. From preschool to fifth grade, Kenny had never seen Stan without Kyle. His loss left a huge impact on the group. Stan sank back into his faggy depression until he realized he’d have a lot more fun being quarterback. Cartman just lashed out at everyone to take out the anger he couldn’t channel into Kyle, and Kenny bounced.

That was sixth grade, though. During sixth grade, Kenny couldn’t stop the feeling that he was missing someone who wasn’t missing him back. They didn’t keep in contact. They didn’t even like each other’s posts on Facebook.

That year was kind of a delirium to him now. He felt really sad sometimes. He died a lot. He went back to guarding the city as Mysterion for a long time. Then he started smoking weed at the lake with Bebe and Token, and suddenly he didn’t miss his old friend group as much. He didn’t think Stan did either, really. He practically ruled this school; although whenever he got trashed, he would lament the knowledge that he had peaked in high school. Cartman just got shunted off where he belonged; he finally stopped being cruel to Butters just to keep someone interacting with him.

“Alright,” Ms. Carter shuffled some papers unnecessarily on her desk. “We were just having the students read Christmas stories they wrote for the class.”

“You still do that?” Kyle’s brows shot up. He assumed they had dropped that stupid tradition when his mom got Cartman suspended in fifth grade.

Ms. Carter nodded at him happily, mistaking his tone for nostalgia. “It’s our annual tradition! Token, Kenny, you can finish your, ah, story now.” She nodded at him to continue, and Kyle leaned back in his chair to look Kenny over for the first time.

Kenny twitched slightly and immediately dropped his eyes back down to the book. He lifted it up so people could see the pictures and continued.

_A priest can be an asshole._

_A child can be an asshole._

_A store clerk can be an asshole._

Kenny continued for many more pages than he had promised Ms. Carter, but she didn’t interrupt him again. He was genuinely proud of the illustrations. He would definitely read this book to his children.

People applauded as Kenny jumped off the stool and high fived Token as he walked to the only empty seat in the back. He glanced at Kyle to see the other’s approval, but Kyle just had his nose slightly wrinkled. The look Kyle was giving him was not something you gave a friend you hadn’t seen for six years. It was some kind of pitying disgust that made Kenny’s stomach turn.

Kyle’s head snapped away as Ms. Carter called the next name.

“Eric Cartman?”

Kenny watched as Cartman waddled up to the stool and pulled out a few papers. He had promised every year that he was going to make his story more twisted and vile than the previous year, and he had delivered on his promise.

Cartman looked around the room mischievously until he reached Kyle’s unflinching glare. He frowned and flipped to the first page of his manuscript. He cleared his throat dramatically and glanced up at the room. “My mom informed me a week ago that Kyle would be coming home, and I’m so glad Kyle chose today to shadow the class because I wrote this story to honor his legacy.”

Kenny went cold. Cartman had made Kyle the antagonist of both stories he wrote while Kyle was around. The first time Kyle was just pissed off, but the second time Kyle had gotten upset enough to tell his mom what had happened. When he left, Cartman had been lost without a Jew to mock.

 

***

 

“It’s okay, dude. Just get it out.”

Stan leaned against a bathroom as he watched Kyle dry heaving into the toilet. It was kind of nice picking up immediately where they left off, but he wished his first encounter with Kyle didn’t have to be waiting while he finished vomiting. “This was his worst yet, and I don’t know how he thought to write it about you. Even I didn’t know you were coming back.” Stan leaned down to rub Kyle’s back comfortingly. “I would be throwing up too.”

Kyle’s body lurched again and out spilled most of his lunch. Stan had to turn his head away respectfully to hide his gagging. God, he hated when people were sick. Kyle was the worst at being sick, too. He never vomited without crying. Stan remembered always visiting him at home when he was sick, and each time Kyle’s eyes would well up dangerously whenever he rushed to grab a bucket or trash can.

“Fucking… asshole…” Kyle groaned. He flopped his head down against the toilet seat, and Stan respectfully flushed the toilet for him.

Stan shrugged. “Yeah, he’s disgusting. Don’t worry about Cartman, dude. He’s like the Boogey Man – he was only scary when we were younger.”

Kyle grunted a laugh. “Good.”

Stan slid down the wall slowly to sit on the ground with Kyle, and Kyle continued to lean his forehead against the toilet. Once in awhile, he would let out a groan or his body would lurch like he was about to vomit more, but overall he stayed still and silent for minutes.

Stan rubbed his back. “You just haven’t had built your Cartman tolerance. I promise, you won’t notice a thing he does in a few months. You just have to ignore him til then.”

Kyle pushed himself around to face Stan. He definitely wasn’t ready to be not next to a toilet, but he could at least have a conversation. “What’s up, dude?”

Stan grinned widely. “Not much. What’s up with you?”

“You’d think we could do a better greeting than that if we hadn’t seen each other in six years?” Kyle weakly pulled him into a hug, stomach lurching as he leaned forward.

“But that’s six years’ worth of things being up. It’s a lot.”

Kyle wiped the mouth with the back of his sleeve. “I meant more, like, today, and yesterday, and tomorrow. We can talk all about your life story a different time, dude.”

Stan nodded. “Fair. Uh, yesterday I had practice then played video games at Clyde’s after. Today, my parents force me to stay inside and study all day. Tomorrow, I have a game. That’s yesterday, today, and tomorrow.”

“You took that incredibly literally.”

Stan smiled widely. “Man, I can’t believe you’re back! How are you feeling about it?”

Kyle glanced around the bathroom stall nervously. “I’m not sure.” He gnawed on his bottom lip. “It’s very sudden. Very different.” At Stan’s look of confusion, he continued, “people at Collegiate and Andover took it, like, seriously. It’s hard to remember people here don’t.” He pushed himself up from the floor and gave it a final flush. “I’ll get used to it.”

Either his response had flown straight over Stan’s head or Stan was just too happy to pay attention to any negativity, but Stan just grinned at him as he attempted to gargle with soapy water. “Did you miss me? I could have just left you here to vomit.”

Kyle spat the soap out. “I missed you so fucking much, man.”

They hugged tightly, with Stan muttering something about Randy letting him skip homework tonight so Kyle could come over to play video games. Randy would be ecstatic to see Kyle. He was the only person in Stan’s life to continue to bring up Kyle long after he was gone. It felt like he’d gotten a family member back


	2. Trap King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> explicit drug references if anyone is worried about that

The stench of sin hung heavily in the air of Kenny’s bedroom. It was the first day of winter break, and he, Token and Bebe had taken on the valiant quest of hotboxing a whole bedroom. It wasn’t as difficult as one might think in Kenny’s 10 x 10 bedroom, but they felt proud of their achievement.

“I like the point where the air turns gray,” Bebe murmured as her head flopped back on Kenny’s pillow. She had been staring intently at music videos for several hours, and Kenny had just assumed she’d turned nonverbal. “It’s a really nice testament to how disappointed our parents would be in us.”

Token made a small grunt of agreement without looking away from his video game.

Only Kenny seemed the least bit mobile. It could have been tolerance or it could have been the pressure to interact with people while customers passed through his room intermittently. He loved holidays. Every teenager in South Park had two weeks on their hands with nothing to do, and that meant real money was coming Kenny’s way. He spun around in his desk chair listlessly as he continued to check his phone for the next customer to come through.

“Can someone come spin me?” He whined, staring at Bebe pointedly, but she just giggled and rolled over onto her back. 

Kenny didn’t like when his friends got too stoned to speak. He was always a talker. Thoughts flew through his head at about a mile an hour, but he really wanted to share those thoughts with an appreciative audience. How else would they know that math is just a circle in your brain? Or how good an idea it was to get a tattoo of a moon on your ass? What if mechanics had wheels instead of legs? These were thoughts that Kenny wanted to share with the world.

Instead he was stuck spinning around in a broken desk chair for hours straight. He had even forced them to hand him the joint while he spun because he knew he would be dizzy as hell once he stopped, and he wanted to avoid that fate for as long as possible.

His phone buzzed and he reached out to grab it without losing the chair’s momentum. “Guys, I have my first customer I don’t know personally!” He tried to pass off his excitement as sarcasm, but Kenny was really delighted. Selling weed brought in good money, but there was nothing better than strangers he could guiltlessly rip off.

Bebe finally glanced up and grinned at him. “Aw, our little Kenny. Growing up and becoming a Trap King.”

He winked back. “You’ll always be my trap queen, Bebz.”

Sensing a persistent disruption to his gaming, Token put the controller down to look up at Kenny. “Who is it?”

Kenny shrugged. “Some dude from Denver. He’s just visiting South Park for a couple days.”

Bebe snorted. “Who comes to South Park on vacation?” Someone must live in the seventh circle of Hell for their hick town to be a refreshing vacation.

“I think he’s visiting a friend; I don’t know. I don’t really have extended conversations with these people.”

She paused for a second to select the next video then looked back up. “How’d he find you? Do you have like a craigslist ad?”

Kenny gnawed his bottom lip and glanced over at Token. “Oliver Beall is your friend, right?”

Token nodded. “We used to go to summer camp together. That barely counts as a stranger.”

Bebe frowned at him. “Hey! Kenny is still a Trap King. Kenny, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

He smiled appreciatively at her and tossed his phone down. “Either way, he’ll be here in five. Is he a cool guy?”

Token shook his head furiously. “The preppiest asshole you’ll ever meet. I had my parents wire me money to camp because he was making fun of my clothing. I have no idea why he texted me, but rip him the hell off.”

Kenny’s jaw almost dropped as he examined Token. His household’s yearly income was probably higher than the whole rest of the town’s combined. If someone made Token feel like the poor kid, Kenny didn’t know how this boy would react to his stained jeans and sneakers so ripped up his big toe stuck out fully.

Token, sensing his insecurities, shrugged. “Whatever, dude. It’s better to be cool and poor than a rich douche.”

Kenny smirked slightly as he pulled out a wad of bills from his desk. “I’m not _that_ poor.”

“Drug dealer money doesn’t count. If anything, it makes you more trash than you were before.”

“Besides,” Bebe smiled mockingly. “How much of the money you make is just going back towards smoking me and Token up everyday?”

Kenny tucked the money safely back in his drawer. This might have sound like an easy task, but Kenny insisted on making every action while spinning. In one spin, he pulled the drawer open. In the next, he pushed the money inside quickly. In the third, he shut the drawer. It was a system that he’d perfected from years with nothing to do but get high in his room. “You guys should really start paying me, by the way. If your family can afford three cars, you can afford an eighth, Token.”

“Yeah, Token,” Bebe spat. “You rich asshole.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow at Bebe to let her know that he had not forgotten the money she owed him either, but she was mercifully saved by a knock on the door. Kenny grunted a welcome, and the door swung open to reveal, Token was right, a Giant Douche.

He was tall. He pulled off the Nantucket red pants. His polo shirt had a Lacoste alligator in the corner. His boat shoes squeaked irritatingly on Kenny’s floor. This was worse than Kenny had expected; he looked like everything Kyle aspired to be.

And speak of the fucking devil.

“I brought a friend with me; I hope that’s okay.” Oliver spoke in a voice that was so haughty it almost sounded like a British accent. “I didn’t know my way around the town, and my friend Kyle said he knew this address.”

Kenny, on his last spin, looked over Oliver’s shoulder to see Kyle leaning against the door warily. His nose was wrinkled; Kenny had been marinating in his room for so long that he’d forgotten it must wreak inside. He slammed down his feet to stop the spinning and pushed himself out of the chair. He had never been more right about anything in his whole life – he should have never gotten off that chair. He wobbled for a second. His vision went black. Before he knew it, he keeled forward and vomited within inches of Kyle’s shoes.

Kyle yelped in disgust, staring at Kenny with the same pitying gaze he gave him at school. This time, though, he looked angry too. It wasn’t like Kenny had gotten any vomit _on_ him – only near him.

“Really sorry, man. I’d been spinning in that chair for like three hours straight. I think my organs might still be moving a little bit.” He smiled at Kyle helplessly, but Kyle didn’t drop his glare. If anything, he looked more disgusted.

“I didn’t realize you sold drugs?”

Was that why he was angry? Kenny rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I started sophomore year. It’s chill. It’s nice to always have weed around.”

Kenny was going to punch Kyle in the face if he kept giving him that same look. Were his only emotions pity, disgust and anger? This boy had to expand his repertoire.

Oliver smiled. “You two know each other, Bro-flovski?”

That was a dumb nickname. Kenny couldn’t fathom Kyle hanging out with the type of people who thought it was clever to work the word “bro” in wherever possible.

“We went to elementary school together. I just transferred to his high school.”

Oliver smirked. “Oh, right, I always forget you’re going back to the hick life.” Kenny, Token and Bebe exchanged angry looks. “You’ve got to come visit us on the east coast if you need a taste of the real world.”

Kenny was pretty sure that a small town living in comfortable poverty was closer to the real world than a boarding school that fed the children with only silver spoons, but he couldn't say anything. He just wanted this boy out of his room, and he wanted Kyle’s frosty and elitist presence to go back where it came from.

He cleared his throat. “Okay, Oliver, so how much did you want?”

“I don’t usually buy for myself, but I only have a hundred on me in cash. How much does that get?”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. He glanced at Token, who made a _money_ gesture with his hands. “That’s a little less than a quarter; is that okay?”

Fuck you, Oliver. Fuck anyone who casually carries around hundred dollar bills. 

Oliver nodded, and Kenny, still stumbling as he recovered from his spin, wandered around his room to grab a scale, plastic bag and absurdly large mason jar of weed. “Sativa or indica?” Kenny glanced up at Oliver as he set a cup on the scale and pressed tare.

Oliver looked at him blankly. “What’s that? I said weed.”

“They’re, uh – nevermind, it doesn’t matter.” Kenny rolled his eyes as he dumped out his cheapest bag into the cup. He dumped it in a bag and handed it to Oliver, who gave Kenny his mother fucking hundred-dollar bill.

Oliver nodded at him. “Cheers, man.” He stuffed the bag in his back pocket and glanced around the small, poorly furnished room. He clearly wanted to be in Kenny's house as little as Kenny wanted him to be there. Kenny wouldn’t be surprised if he left to get vaccinated for a hoard of diseases after this visit. “It was good to meet you. I’ll catch ya around, Token.”

He looked over at Bebe to say goodbye, but she didn’t have any interest in his presence when there was A$AP Rocky to stare at. Under different circumstances, she probably would have pursued her dream of being a trophy wife, but Token and Kenny clearly didn’t like this boy, and she didn’t think that being so high she was almost catatonic was the best first impression on her future husband.

He exited the room quickly with Kyle offering nothing but a forced smile.

 Kenny opened his mouth to say goodbye, but Kyle quickly followed after Oliver with his eyes on the floor. Kenny closed his mouth. He collapsed back down in his desk chair, but he didn’t return to spinning. “Token, hit me with that bong,” he demanded, arm outstretched.

Token grabbed it but paused before looking Kenny over. “You’re shaking really badly man – you okay? You’re sure you want to handle expensive glassware right now?” At Kenny’s lack of response, Token set it back down and lumbered over to the desk to roll a joint. “I’m really sorry about that, dude. I won’t give your number to twats anymore.”

Kenny shook his head. “No, dude, that was great. I made a lot of money.” He didn’t realize how quivery his voice was until he heard it come out. Token, to his credit, didn’t bring it up. He just wordlessly handed the joint to Kenny, who accepted it gratefully.

 He had planned on smoking until he couldn’t think anymore, but he’d been a lot closer to that threshold than he thought. They continued to pass around the joint for awhile, and Kenny and Token eventually joined Bebe on the bed to watch videos.

 Kenny’s brain hurt. Or his chest hurt. He had lost a good deal of feeling in the rest of his body. Whatever this feeling was and wherever it might come from, Kenny wanted it gone. Any problem that was too significant to be smoked away was too much for him to handle.

After what felt like hours of mindless YouTube surfing, Kenny leaned forward to pause the video. “Token, I need you to _Pretty Woman_ me.”

Bebe made a small whining noise at the loss of her music videos, but she had sobered up enough to look at Kenny with mild interest.

“What?” Token laughed in disbelief.

“Wait, no. The Audrey Hepburn one. The rain and Spain?”

“It’s the rain _in_ Spain,” Bebe muttered. “And it’s called _My Fair Lady_.”

Kenny nodded. “Okay, either. They’re like the same movie right?” He hadn’t seen either of them, but he had the general idea. Someone took a piece of trash and made it not trash. It was like Wall-E but with humans. He also had not seen Wall-E.

“It’s less that they’re the same movie, and more that you are both a slut _and_ a piece of trash so you cover all the ground.” Token surveyed Kenny curiously. “Anyway, I can’t help.”

Kenny looked at him pleadingly. "Token, you are my classiest friend. You are a black man who wears white. You have to teach me."

Token frowned at him. “I’m sorry, man, but I’m just as scummy as you are. I just have money so no one really cares.” He was right. There was no way he would be hanging out with Kenny right now if he were as classy as Kyle or Oliver. He was just a wealthy burnout.

“I have money.”

“In terms of classiness, drug dealer money is actually counted as a negative.”

Bebe raised a hand helpfully. “I can do it, Kenny! I’ll make you classy!”

“Okay, Bebe, so the thing is that you’re kind of trashy.” Kenny was in no state for tactfulness. “I have no doubt that you’ll find a classy, wealthy man to marry. You’re very hot.” She smiled at him, and any anger she had felt dissipated immediately. “But I don’t think you can really help me.”

Token was beginning to feel like Kenny wasn’t just making a pointless joke. Obligingly, he started flipping through their friends’ Facebook accounts to find the person who could bring out the Audrey Hepburn inside Kenny.

The three of them gathered around the screen as Token clicked through accounts. Maybe they had set their standards too high or maybe this was really the best South Park had to offer, but their search turned into an hour of insulting all their friends.

“Cartman?”

Kenny raised an eyebrow as if he were shocked Token even suggested it.

“Clyde?”

“Pussy.”

“Craig?”

“Dick.”

“Jimmy?”

“Do you really want to listen to Jimmy talk for that long? Plus, he’ll probably tell you that jokes are a great icebreaker at parties.” Bebe rolled her eyes.

Kenny scrolled down on the screen. “What about Pip?”

 Token groaned. “He’s classy in a way that makes me hate classy people.”

“Also, being French doesn’t automatically make you cultured.” Bebe sneered at the four likes on Pip’s profile picture.

 Kenny nodded. “Okay, but I’m keeping him in mind. That dude knows etiquette like the back of his hand.”

Bebe looked surprised. “You really want this badly enough that you’d hang out with Pip?” She paused. “I know someone who can help you.”

 

***

 

Bebe knocked frantically until a half-asleep Wendy pulled the door open. “Bebe, what are you doing here?”

“We need your help!” She gestured over at Kenny, who stuck his hands in his pockets and looked away.

“With what? Are you high, Bebe?”

Kenny knew this was a bad idea. It was the worst idea. Wendy was close with Stan, and Stan seemed to be the only person at school who passed whatever test Kyle was using to determine his friends. All she had to do was tell Stan, and Kyle would undoubtedly find out what Kenny was doing. He’d probably just think of it as a joke; a weak-willed “drug enthusiast” was trying to raise himself to _Kyle’s_ level. Until he proved everyone wrong, he knew he just looked pathetic.

Bebe had insisted that Wendy loved projects. She had even dated Cartman for a month in ninth grade to see if she could make him any less of a fat piece of shit, but she failed miserably. Kenny took a little comfort in knowing that, no matter what, he was nowhere near as lost a cause as Cartman. If Wendy refused, Bebe promised, she would just strap Kenny to a chair and force him to watch _My Fair Lady_ until he internalized it.

“No, this is important!” Bebe insisted. “Kenny, go ahead!” 

Wendy shifted her gaze to Kenny, and, in that second, he knew he should have gone with Pip. Maybe it would turn him into an overly polite pushover whom everyone in the school hated, but Pip definitely knew manners. Kenny might even have come away from it with a cool fake accent.

“Yeah?” Wendy asked finally. “I kind of wanted to sleep.”

Kenny opened his mouth and shut it a few times. What was the best way to phrase this? He settled with blurting out, “I need help making myself not a scummy piece of shit anymore.”

Wendy shook her head a little as if it took some time to really understand what Kenny was saying. “You want my help to become not a scummy piece of shit?” She frowned. “Kenny, why do you think you’re a piece of shit? You should talk to someone about that.”

“He wants to be _My Fair Lady_ ’d,” Bebe interjected. “Don’t turn this into _Girl, Interrupted._ ” 

Wendy looked at Kenny very seriously. She took in the oversized t-shirt he had accidentally bleached before he knew to separate colors for the laundry and his overgrown, oily hair. She frowned a little.

Kenny waved his hand quickly. “Don’t worry about it, Wendy. Just… like… don’t bring this up to anyone, okay?”

He wasn’t sure if she’d blinked once. “No, I’ll do it.” She stepped back inside her house. “I’m going to bed, but I’ll be by your house at 2 tomorrow.”

Bebe nudged Kenny in the ribs happily, practically beaming at him. “See, Kenny? I told you she was the perfect choice!” Wendy smiled a little. “Let’s go get high and watch _My Fair Lady_ before you start, okay?” Wendy’s smile faded.

“Enjoy your last night, Kenny, but this is your _last_ night. I am not a fan of failing when I set out to do something.”

Kenny nodded at her and flashed her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Wendy. Really. Thank you.”


	3. Not I, Said the Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last time there are heavy drug references i promise

Kenny winced as several ounces of weed were dumped in a cardboard box. He had sat on the bed watching coke, molly, acid, and all of his paraphernalia get disposed of, and it was beginning to hurt his heart. Token, on the other hand, sat with the box on his lap and a smile like the sun on his face. "You don't need to buy me any birthday presents ever again, Ken." 

“I never bought you any anyway.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting, Token. Kenny, do you have any other drugs hidden in the room?"

Slowly, he reached underneath his mattress and pulled out a white baggie and a zip lock of mushrooms. "This is everything," he muttered, hanging his head like a child about to be scolded. He tossed the bags to Token, who examined them intensely.

"Is this ketamine, man?"

Kenny nodded sadly, and Wendy grimaced. "You're disgusting, Kenny! You should not have all this just sitting around! You shouldn’t have all of this ever!" She turned around to give him a deathly glare. "Cigarettes?" 

"Aw, dude, let him keep those. Cigarettes look cool." Token, always a good friend, pleaded with Wendy. "I actually anticipated this development, and I think I found a solution."

Wendy wrinkled her nose. "Cigarettes are gross, make you smell bad, and are generally unnecessary. This isn't about making Kenny look cool."

Token dug around in his bag. "You aren't supposed to go cold turkey on smoking and drugs at the same time. That's bad, m'kay?" Wendy crossed her arms in front of her chest, not at all convinced.

He emerged victoriously from the bag and handed Kenny a cigarette extender carved out of what Wendy could only assume was actual whale bone. "Is this not classy? You can't deny this is classy, Wendy."

She almost growled. "That's classy the way a top hat is."

“And what, pray tell, is classier than a top hat?”

He tossed the extender to Kenny, who admired it happily. "I think it's perfect, Wendy."

"You asked for my help! I'm taking you under my wing, Kenny, and I say no cigarettes!" At Kenny's clear desperation, she softened a little. "I'll give you a few months. Just because Token spent all that money on that for you."

Kenny and Token exchanged a high five. "Take that baby for a spin, man!" Token exclaimed, pulling a pack of Marlboros out of his pocket and tossing it to Kenny.

The functionality of Token’s gift could easily be debated. Kenny broke the first cigarette in half as he tried to jam it into the extender. The second he dropped on the floor and spent a solid minute on his knees searching around for it. Finally, he took a drag and breathed the smoke out slowly. "I definitely feel classier already."

"No smoking indoors!" Wendy cried. "Open a window and lean out it if you have to."

Token relaxed on Kenny’s bed and lit his own. "Doesn't that sound more annoying teenager and less polite?"

"I'll probably die, too," Kenny piped up.

She tugged on her hair. "Jesus, you have no hope, Ken. This is the last cigarette you will smoke in your room. Open a window. If I come back and it smells like smoke in here, you can kiss my help goodbye." 

Kenny stared at the embers despondently. 

Wendy, in her kindest display of sympathy since Kenny had requested her help, ruffled his hair affectionately. "You can handle this, Kenny. This was a really smart thing to do." Kenny grinned at her slightly. "Now let's look at your book bag and desk."

Kenny nervously looked towards aforementioned desk. It used to be brown, but it looked grey under all the ash, shake, filters and torn up papers. He unzipped the bag, and Wendy nearly gasped at the collection of crumpled papers and pens. There was not a textbook in sight. Kenny, turning redder by the second, opened his desk drawers to show wads of cash and empty spots from where Wendy had robbed all his drugs.

Her eyes were round with shock. "Okay. We have two weeks. We can get this desk organized.”

“Extreme desk makeover, Kenny! Is this the most exciting day of your life?”

Kenny shrugged and gave Token a lopsided grin. “That time I died was probably more exciting, but...”

***

 A pair of brown arms wrapped around Kenny from behind and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I love you, man. I just… I really love you.”

Kenny wriggled away to turn and look into the dilated pupils of Token Black. The party was dark, and Token’s eyes were deep brown, but, with nothing but the flashing lights Token had put up around his house, Kenny could still see the manic eyes of a person who was on a _lot_ of drugs.

Wendy had told Kenny it was okay if he drank at Token’s NYE party, but it didn’t help quench the jealousy that Token and all of their friends had used today as the official “do all of Kenny’s drugs at once” day.

Kenny bit back his envy and scratched Token’s rough hair. He purred like a cat under the touch. “How are you feeling, dude?”

Token closed his eyes and nodded. He didn’t need to use words for Kenny to understand the wavelength he was on. He’d been witnessing it all night. Token immediately darted off, probably having forgotten he ever saw Kenny, to hastily rescue a decorative vase from the tabletop Bebe’d insisted on dancing on for hours straight. Clyde had gone upstairs with a girl, to hook up Kenny assumed, but Kenny had found them thirty minutes later splashing each other in Token’s bathtub. Even Tweek and Craig had gone along with Token’s blowout plan, but it had ended with Craig finding Tweek a quiet spot where he could feed him lollipops to keep his jaw from chattering more than usual. Those two had honestly surprised Kenny. He knew they were always willing to smoke if it helped Tweek’s anxiety, but he had never seen either of them touch a harder drug. Apparently the magic of New Years Eve wasn’t wasted on anyone. Kenny was pretty sure he’d heard someone mention Butters rolling around naked on the yard, but that could have been because of _anything_.

He’d never really taken the time to appreciate that this would be the first night anyone besides he, Token, and Bebe had tried anything, and it was impossible for him not to feel like he was missing an important night of his friends’ lives.

“Kenny!”

He turned away from Token to see Annie weaving through the crowd towards him. He cocked an eyebrow slightly. Annie was Bebe’s friend. Kenny was _pretty sure_ they’d gotten drunk and had sex sophomore year, but he had almost no contact with any of Bebe’s friend group. He forgot sometimes that she didn’t just hang out with the South Park boys, and Kenny didn’t like to join her when she spent time with the girls. No teenage boy in his right mind wanted to spend an afternoon with a group of girls giggling and whispering about which one of them had hooked up with him and what he was like in bed, and Bebe was so defensive about being Kenny’s best female friend she’d probably pee on him if any other girl got too close.

Still, he smiled at her warmly. “Annie! How are you doing?”

As she approached, Kenny noticed another girl in tow. This one was unfamiliar – probably not a South Park High student. She was so skinny her arms were basically wires, and her sunken face highlighted her sharp cheekbones. She could be considered very attractive if Kenny was into the heroin chic look, but instead he just wanted to give her a burger. Or a pair of tits.

“I’m grrreat,” Annie drawled at him. “I wanted you to meet my friend Caitlin.”

The skinny girl, Caitlin, stuck her hand out to him, and he shook it obligingly. “Caitlin.”

“I’m Kenny. Are you from around here?”

She shook her head. “Well, kind of. I go to North Park. I’m just visiting Annie for the party.”

He nodded understandingly.

Annie smiled at the two of them and started edging away. “I’ve got to go find Red,” she explained lamely. “You two get to know each other.” Without waiting for a goodbye, she spun around and disappeared back into the crowd.

Kenny stood and looked at Caitlin for a second. “Enjoying the party?”

“Yeah!” She glanced around then took a step closer to Kenny. Their chests were almost touching. Kenny wouldn’t have had a problem with it if the glint in her eye didn’t suggest that they did not have the same goal in mind. “Annie told me you’re the boy who gave everyone molly?”

Kenny bit on his lip to keep from frowning. “Sorry. Not me.”

Caitlin moved in closer. “Aw, really? She told me all about what a great dealer you are!” She grabbed the hem of Kenny’s shirt and twisted it around a finger. “I’ll pay you – I promise.”

Kenny tried to step back, but the house was too packed to give him the space to move. “I really don’t. You can try asking Token?”

“Are you _sure_?”

Her face was incredibly close to his, and he could almost hear Bebe’s voice in his head bitching about keeping Kenny away from, in her words, “coke sluts”. The clock on Token’s wall read 10:45. If it were an hour later, Kenny might have humored her, but it wasn’t, and he just wanted to be around someone who wasn’t going to talk about drugs the whole time.

He stopped a familiar purple barrette weaving through the crowd near him, and he reached out to grab Wendy’s arm and pull her towards him. The jerky motion sent her punch spilling all over her dress, and she looked at Kenny furiously. “You couldn’t have just called my name?”

Caitlin took a step back and looked Wendy over scathingly.

“You think you would have heard me?” Kenny could finally feel at ease with Wendy by his side. “Wendy, this is my friend, Caitlin. She’s, uh, looking for molly.” They made understanding eye contact. “Any idea where Token might be?”

Wendy pointed up a stairwell, and Kenny nodded at Caitlin. “Token can probably help you out.”

Caitlin frowned at the two of them and disappeared, leaving Wendy to wipe vainly at her dress. At least it was black; Kenny didn’t have to feel too bad.

“Coke slut,” Wendy muttered under her breath. Kenny smirked a little; he loved when his friend’s idiosyncratic slang started to catch on. “What did I say about hanging out with normal people tonight?”

Kenny gestured around the party. “Do you see any normal ones? Can I just hang out with you, Wendy? It’s fucking New Years Eve.”

Wendy bit her bottom lip. “Well, I was hanging out with Stan.”

Kenny nodded furiously. “I promise I’ll split well before midnight if that’s what you want.” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she nodded. “Can I hang out with you until then? I’ll hang out with Stan, too.”

She shrugged. “No, Ken, it’s fine. Let’s go get another drink.” She grabbed his hand and started tugging him towards the bar. “I’m dumping you at 11:30, though.”

He giggled a little. He didn’t know Wendy too well besides Bebe’s stories of her and the time they spent “fixing his life”, but he was enjoying drunk and horny Wendy quite a lot. “So you’re planning on spending your new year’s reliving elementary school?”

She snorted at him. “If you don’t think Stan’s hot, you’re a lot straighter than I gave you credit for.”

***

She’d given Kenny what she promised. For almost an hour, they’d danced, drank, and Wendy even let Kenny lift her up for a keg stand (which lasted approximately ten seconds before she started kicking to be let down).

He wasn’t going to deprive her of a new year’s kiss. She and Stan had finally managed to become friends after the breakup in middle school, and if Wendy wanted to go through it all again for a third time, Kenny couldn’t stop her.

Finally alone, Kenny slid open the glass door to Token’s backyard and stepped out, cigarette in his mouth before he even left the building. This was the first New Year’s that Kenny hadn’t spent the last hour deciding who his kiss would be, and it was a lot lonelier than he anticipated it being. It was lonely not being able to do what his friends were doing, and it felt better to be outside in the snow where there was no one around to remind him of the fun they were having.

Kenny slid down against the brick wall of Token’s house and took a deep drag of his cigarette. He was almost at the point of drunk where he was willing to say “fuck it” and just give up on his promise to Wendy, but something in the back of his mind told him that he would regret it in the morning if he gave up this fast.

He looked around the backyard, trying to calm down the world spinning around him. Did it even count as being sober if he drank to the brink of throwing up? Whatever. He was choosing his battles. Alcoholism was a culturally sanctioned addiction, after all.

He dropped his head down between his knees, lighting another cigarette with the butt of his first. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been outside for, but he hadn’t heard any midnight cheering coming from the party.

Kenny was awoken from his delirious thoughts by the sound of the door sliding open again, and another person stepped out into the backyard. He could faintly hear a familiar voice speaking into a telephone, and Kenny lazily glanced up to meet Kyle’s suspicious gaze.

“I’ll call you back soon, Ike. Have a great new year, okay?” Kyle paused as he waited for a reply then hung up his phone and turned to Kenny. “What are you doing out here?”

Kenny wordlessly lifted his cigarette up in answer. “How about you?”

Kyle glanced in through the glass doors. “I have no idea. Stan told me it would be fun if I came, but Stan was wrong. Now he’s just gone off with Wendy somewhere.”

“So why don’t you leave?” It came out harsher than Kenny meant it to, but Kyle shot him a somewhat hurt glare.

“I was just waiting out the clock. He’ll give me shit if I leave before midnight.”

Kenny shrugged. “But you aren’t having fun?” Something told Kenny it was polite to stand up and talk to Kyle face-to-face, but standing didn’t seem like it was in his cards right now.

“No one has fun on New Year’s, though. It’s famously overhyped.”

Kenny grinned. “It looks like people are having fun inside.”

Kyle sneered at him. “That’s just because you’re all are on God knows what.”

He shook his head. “Not I, said the cat.”

That earned a small smile. Kyle used to give Kenny his storybooks in elementary school once he’d read them enough times, and it cheered Kenny up a little to know that they had the exact same repertoire of children’s stories. Kyle didn’t look much more trusting of Kenny, but he did slide clumsily down the wall next to him. It made him feel a little more at ease as he watched Kyle topple over before pushing himself back up into a sitting position – at least Kyle was as drunk as he was.

“Nah?”

Kenny shook his head. “Nah. Token just took all my stuff and gave it to everyone at the party.”

Kyle grinned a little. “Isn’t that kind of like a fucked up, reverse Robin Hood?”

“Robbing drugs from the poor to give to the rich?”

“Exactly.”

Kenny snickered. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Well, whatever. At least they’re all having fun?”

Kyle wrinkled his nose. “Your sense of fun is pretty fucked up.”

“So those boarding school rumors aren’t true? No drinking mouthwash or snorting bath salts?”

Kyle grimaced. “Not with my friends, anyway.”

“Like Oliver?” Kenny couldn’t hide a twinge of anger in his voice. This was definitely not the conversation to have while alcohol had taken away any semblance of a filter. “That dude was a dick, Kyle.”

Kyle looked taken aback. “You met him for like two minutes. He’s not a dick.”

“Even Token says he’s a dick.”

“Token tried to light a firework in his house a few minutes ago.”

Kenny grinned. “Really? That’s such a good idea. I wish I’d been there.”

Kyle scoffed. “That’s probably why people like you two don’t like people like Oliver.”

What was _that_ supposed to mean? The comment sent Kenny reeling, and he couldn’t come up with a better response than “what was _that_ supposed to mean?”

“It means Oliver is smart and an asset to society.” Kyle paused. “And it means you two are burnouts and idiots.”

“Oliver is an asshat to society,” Kenny grumbled.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Oliver would pass that much judgment on someone if he met them for two minutes while he was too high to stand up from a chair.”

“No, Oliver would just pass judgment on someone by estimating the property value of their house.”

Kyle’s expression softened a little. “Oliver wouldn’t judge you for not being as rich as he is.”

“Are all your boarding school friends like that?”

“They’re not assholes, Kenny. They’re just mature. They understand the real world.”

Kenny growled. “How do you understand the real world when you have parents who are able to provide everything for you?”

“How do you understand the real world if you’re high for all of it?”

Kenny slammed his cigarette butt down in the snow, storing his extender in the pocket of his jacket. “I understand what it’s like to pay bills. And to feed your family. And either way, I haven’t been – “

He faltered. It didn’t sound very impressive to say he hadn’t smoked weed for almost two weeks. Then again, it still sounded more impressive than saying he’d smoked weed all day everyday for two weeks. “Either way, I haven’t smoked in awhile.”

Kyle nodded disbelievingly. “I’m sure.”

“I’m telling the truth! I’m not on whatever medley of delights Token is. Trust me, if I were doing drugs, I’d in there doing drugs.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Then congratulations on your _awhile_.”

They sank into silence. Kenny was a little relieved that Kyle didn’t just stand up and leave, but judging by the way his head hung forward weakly, he was probably just too drunk to stand up yet.

“Happy to be back?”

“No.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. Even if it were a lie, it wasn’t the kind of question someone said no to. “South Park doesn’t do it for you anymore?”

Kyle groaned. “Ike got into some special genius school, and they couldn’t afford to live in New York and pay both mine and his tuition. His education came first, I guess.” Kenny was quiet, but Kyle seemed to have opened up to talking now. “I really thought I’d made it out of here. It sucked at first. I missed Stan, and I missed all you guys. Then I just kind of realized South Park is one big bear trap for people who have any dreams. Now I’m back.”

“Same house?”

“It sold. We’re on the east side now.”

“Do you like the house?”

Kyle gave Kenny a glare as if all his previous responses should have answered that question.

They fell into silence again, and Kenny lit another cigarette. He knew he couldn’t afford to be chain smoking this much, but he didn’t know what to do to break the silence. He glanced over at Kyle and could have sworn he saw tears welling up as Kyle stared at the dirty snow at their feet.

“It’s going to be okay, man. It’s just a year and a half. You’ll warm up to it.”

Kyle shook his head.

Kenny, reluctantly, put his free arm around Kyle, who flinched away. “You were always the smartest kid here. You’re not stuck in South Park forever.”

Kyle shook his head again, but he allowed himself to lean his head into Kenny’s neck.

“It’s going to be fun being a big fish in a little pond? You’ll make all of us look so stupid.”

Kenny could have sworn he heard a small laugh, but Kyle didn’t move.

Was this friendship? More likely, Kyle was too drunk to have any discretion about who he was hanging out with. Kenny was a little relieved that Kyle wasn’t too tightly wound to drink. He couldn’t imagine having this conversation with him sober. Or any conversation, for that matter.

Kenny craned his neck to blow the smoke away from Kyle’s face, but he felt Kyle shake his head. “I don’t mind it.”

Kenny was almost happy that he’d chosen to spend the party sitting outside with Kyle. It felt like he’d been given one chance to talk to him on even footing. He had never been given the chance to see Kyle drunk when they were younger, but he got the impression that the boy had never really learned how to hold his alcohol. It was really helping him open up.

Kyle gripped Kenny’s hoodie. “I hate it here, Kenny. I don’t fit in, and I’m lonely, but I also don’t want to fit in.”

Kenny scratched his hair calmingly. “You don’t have to fit in to be accepted, man. Look at Butters. Everyone loves Butters, and he’s fucked up in a million different ways.” He felt Kyle’s facial muscles twist into a smile against his shoulder, and Kyle nodded again.

Their peaceful silence was interrupted by the sound of a bell ringing and cheering coming from inside the party. Kyle sat bolt upright, and Kenny looked around the yard startled. “Happy New Year?” Kenny said weakly.

“Happy New Year, Kenny.” Kyle pushed himself up, gripping the wall tightly to keep from tumbling over. “I think I can go home now.” He nodded at Kenny. “Good night.”

He stumbled over his footing, and Kenny jumped up to catch up by the arm. For a second, Kyle teetered there dangerously, then he lurched forward and vomited on Kenny’s sneakers.

Kenny winced. “Are we even now?”

Kyle looked at him in annoyance as he wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeves.

“I mean, seeing as how I vomited _next_ to your sneakers, and you vomited _on_ mine. I’d say it’s even.” Kenny smiled a little.

Kyle spat on the ground and rolled his eyes. “I’m going to call a cab.” He pulled out his phone and typed on it clumsily for a few seconds before handing it to Kenny. “Just do it for me. Whatever.”

Kenny grinned at him and obliged his request. “You’ve got three minutes til it arrives.”

He handed the phone back, and Kyle smiled gratefully. “Thanks, Ken.” He reached towards the knob of Token’s door, and Kenny watched silently as he slid it open. _You’ve got three minutes til it arrives_.

Kenny wasn’t ready for Kyle to leave. Something told him he wouldn’t have another chance like this to talk to him for a long time, and it felt unfinished. “Yo, Kyle.”

Kyle paused.

“Happy New Year.”

Kenny grabbed Kyle’s arm and pulled him back away from the door and towards him. Without giving himself time to think about motivations or consequences, he pressed his lips softly against Kyle’s.

Kyle stepped back. “It’s not midnight anymore.”

“Yeah, you missed it. And you taste disgusting.”

“You just watched me throw up.”

Kenny smiled. Kyle wasn’t moving back towards the door. He wasn’t even moving further away from Kenny’s face. “Just keep your tongue in your mouth, and we can avoid any unpleasantness.”

Kyle almost burst out laughing before Kenny had pulled him back in. For the first time tonight, he didn’t feel like he was missing out on his friends’ fun. If anything, they were missing out. He grabbed Kyle’s neck and pulled him in closer, and he felt Kyle’s fingers winding through hair that Wendy insisted he had to wash _everyday_.

_I don’t care if you water down the shampoo, Kenny. Just fucking wash it._

It had been good advice.

He ran his hand down Kyle’s side in disbelief, gripping his waist tightly. Kyle was _responding_. Kenny had no idea how much he had to drink – he had just thrown up – but it didn’t really matter. Kyle was responding, and he didn’t follow Kenny’s command to keep his tongue inside his mouth.

Too quickly, the Kyle’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled back to look at it. “My car is here,” he said in a dull voice. He looked Kenny over quickly then disappeared back into the party.

The taste of beer and vomit had never been something Kenny considered pleasant before.


	4. Locker

There was an angry squeak and a thud as a large rat jumped from Kenny’s locker to the ground and scurried off.

“What the fuck, dude?” Kenny cried incredulously. “That was my childhood friend!”

“You keep a rat in your locker?” Wendy screamed back.

Kenny pulled on his hair angrily. “I’d had it since seventh grade!”

Wendy was almost shaking as she wrung out her hands in a poor attempt to shake off any rat germs. “That’s vermin, Kenny! Jesus Christ!”

Kenny glared at her and stepped away. “I told you you didn’t want to clean out my locker.”

Wendy sighed. “Well, I assume the worst of it is over.” She reached back in the locker and emerged with a handful of rumpled papers. “Start organizing these, Ken. The folders are over there.” She jerked her head towards a pile of color-coordinated folders and notebooks on the floor. Wendy took her jobs very seriously.

She had made it very clear that she was not Kenny’s personal assistant. For the first week of their agreement, Kenny had spent the majority of the time sitting around and whining as Wendy tore his room apart and lectured him on everything that he had been doing wrong.  Eventually, she warned him that if Kenny didn’t begin to pull his weight, he would be doing it all by himself.

So he obediently sat cross-legged on the floor, smoothing out pieces of paper and sticking them in the folders Wendy had neatly labeled Art History, Calculus, Psychology, English Lit and Spanish. He even followed her instruction to file them in chronological order (on the rare occasions that Kenny had actually written down the dates on his assignments).

Wendy continued to throw down pieces of paper down towards Kenny as she searched through his locker. “You, like, own textbooks right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that place is like Mary Poppins’ bag. Just keep searching.”

Wendy wrinkled her nose. Messy lockers were one of the things she hated the most in this world. It felt like a “before and after” advertisement - she got a lot of satisfaction watching a glorified trash pile slowly turn into a clone of her own locker.

She was right that Kenny’s locker wasn’t as bad as that rat foretold it to be. She did have a trash bag to fill with chewed up pieces of gum, cigarette butts, and the photos of Playboy models on the walls of his locker, but overall it was more messy than it was disgusting.

She reached in then paused as her hand closed around something slimy. Very slowly, she drew her arm out, staring at Kenny in horror.

Wendy made a retching noise in the back of her throat, and Kenny’s gaze snapped up to meet hers.

“You had a fucking _condom_ in your locker?”

Wendy whipped it in the bag as fast as she could, leaning over to rub her hand clean on Kenny’s sweatshirt.

Kenny laughed. “Was it used?”

“Yes, of course it was fucking used!” She wouldn’t have reacted like this if it were an innocent emergency condom he kept around; she would have expected as much of him. At least, if she assumed Kenny regularly used protection, she would have expected as much of him.

He smiled. “Huh. Wonder when that was from.”

She did not look like she found any part of this funny.

Kenny frowned guiltily. “There’s hand sanitizer in your locker – want me to get it?”

“01 – 15 – 25,” she growled, holding her hand away from the rest of her body as if it were contaminated.

Kenny set off around the hall to Wendy’s locker. He always got this weird sense of déjà vu every time he walked down a hall that wasn’t his own. All the lockers were exactly the same, and the setup was exactly the same, but it wasn’t _his_ hall with _his_ people.

He approached Wendy’s locker, glancing around at the other students curiously. Of course they were all his friends, but he saw them slightly less everyday, and for some reason that made a difference to Kenny. It was like a cabin at camp.

Stan and other members of the football team had lockers near Wendy’s, and Kenny looked over instantly to see if Kyle was with them. No. Craig was there though, so Kenny didn’t feel quite as intimidated by Stan’s other friends.

He wasn’t exactly afraid of the athletes. In a school terrorized by Eric Cartman, no one else really bullied anyone. Stan was still cool – Kenny didn’t see him much outside of school, but they had been friends for years, and Stan respected that. Stan wouldn’t deny that he’d dumped Kenny for David within a year of Kyle leaving South Park, and Kenny wouldn’t deny that David was a cool dude. He was glad that Stan had been able to find his footing again; Kyle leaving hurt him more than it hurt anyone else.

Craig was the only member of the football team who made Kenny feel completely comfortable. He wasn’t the type of person one would expect to put people at ease. He towered over all the other players, rarely spoke, and his eyebrows looked like they were glued on at an angle like an angry puppet. He also had never failed to take care of Tweek since fourth grade, and that entailed spending most of his time with the friends Tweek was comfortable with – namely, Clyde, Token, Kenny, and sometimes Butters if he wasn’t grounded or being abused by Cartman. Kenny affectionately referred to Craig as his BFG (in his head – Craig would take the F out of the BFG if he ever heard Kenny use that term aloud).

He knelt down to unlock Wendy’s locker, and Stan paused halfway through putting a book in his bag. “Why are you opening Wendy’s locker, man?”

“I have to get something for her from it.”

“You have her lock number?”

“She just gave it to me, yeah. Kenny grabbed the hand sanitizer and stood up, kicking the locker closed. “What’s up?”

Stan’s eyes narrowed. So something _had_ happened after New Year’s. Wendy and Kenny never talked about things like that. Their conversations were usually a lot more aggressive and involved a good deal of yelling back and forth. “What did you need to get her?”

“Hand sanitizer.” Kenny pushed the bottle at Stan as evidence.

“Why?”

“She was cleaning out my locker, and she felt gross.” Kenny was pretty turned off by Stan’s jealousy. Granted, Wendy had broken up with Stan for other boys twice before, but Kenny genuinely hadn’t done anything.

“Why was she cleaning out your locker?”

Kenny shrugged. “I don’t know? It’s gross. She found my pet rat, and I guess she thought things had to change. I lost Rita, though, so if anyone sees a rat.” He paused and waved a hand airily. “Ah, whatever, I’m better without her. She deserves to be free.”

“Pet rat?” A player Kenny didn’t recognize grunted to a burly dude next to him. They rolled their eyes at each other.

Stan didn’t look any less suspicious, but he had no further questions. He stared Kenny down the whole time he waved goodbye to the other players and speed walked back to his own hall.

***

Stan stormed into the cafeteria and slid into the seat next to Kyle. Kyle watched quietly as Stan stabbed angrily at his ravioli before scarfing it down.

“Is everything okay?”

Stan stabbed at the ravioli again. “Did you see how much Wendy hung out with Kenny today?”

“No, I actually hadn’t.” He hadn’t seen Kenny at all that day. That was the beauty of taking mostly accelerated classes. Kyle was working most of the day, and there was no way Kenny could get into any of those classes.

“It’s been a week, Kyle. A week, and she’s already all over someone else.”

Kyle frowned. “Come on. Wendy wouldn’t cheat on you, and Kenny isn’t… her type.”

The pasta was becoming mush, but Stan continued to attack it. “She cleaned out his fucking locker. Then Butters saw them studying together during their free period. Where is she now? No one can prove they’re not having lunch together!”

“This just may not be their lunch period.”

“Fucking _Kenny_ , dude? Okay, I get Token. We were like eight anyway. And I get David. He’s pretty fucking hot. But Kenny?”

Kyle stared down at his own food. His stomach was quickly turning to lead so he handed his plate to Stan for continued stabbing.

Craig and David dropped their trays next to Kyle and Stan.

“Tweek’s sitting with us today,” Craig said flatly.

Stan nodded. “Yes, we’re all very nice to Tweek. Tweek’s great.” Craig always got protective of Tweek whenever he made him hang out with the athletes. Tweek was much more comfortable with their other friends, but the football team was never _rude_ to him. He just didn’t exactly fit in with the conversations, and that always made his anxiety flare up.

David took a sip of his juice, judging Stan carefully. “Everything all good? Your vibe’s really tense, and you really gave that ravioli hell.” He gestured down to Stan’s plate.

“Did _you_ see Kenny and Wendy today?” Stan demanded.

He cracked the cheap ceramic plate loudly with his next stab and looked up in shock at the sound of a tray being dropped down onto the table with a clatter. Tweek moved in next to Craig, and Craig immediately began to help him salvage the food that hadn’t been spilled.

Stan was grateful that neither Tweek nor Craig really cared enough about anyone else’s business to gossip. They were two of Kenny’s best friends, and Stan knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get any information out of them just as much as they weren’t going to share anything he said with Kenny. Stan gave Tweek a nod, and Tweek smiled shyly back.

“Sah, Tweek?” David grinned at him, losing track of Stan’s conversation.

“S-sah?” Tweek looked at Craig nervously like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with that word.

Stan could have sworn he heard Craig lean over and whisper _it’s the douche way of saying “what’s up?”_ in Tweek’s ear, and the small grin twisting Kyle’s lips upwards suggested that he had heard it too.

“David, I asked you a fucking question.”

“Oh, right, I did see them,” David said thoughtfully. “He was about to light a cigarette in the library, and Wendy just grabbed at him and threw it away. It was pretty funny.”

Stan had to hold himself back from banging his fists on the table. “We’ve been back a day, and they’re already always together. She left me on New Year’s to go hang out with him for an hour, y’know.” If Stan hadn’t been preoccupied by his own issues, he might have noticed Kyle staring daggers at his cafeteria tray.

“Dude, you don’t have to worry. Wendy’s tops, and Kenny’s kind of scum – no offense, Tweek,” David smiled politely at Tweek. Craig had grown up accustomed to being friends with Kenny and hearing other people rip on him; Tweek always got upset when he heard people talk poorly about his friends. He had nothing to worry about; people liked Kenny. He was just an easy target. “Nothing but love for Kenny. She’s just _Wendy_.”

Stan glared at him. “You stay away from Wendy too.”

David grinned. “Oh, I will. She’s very insane, Stan. But don’t worry about Kenny getting in the way. I think dating Cartman was rock bottom for her, anyway.” He bit back a grin at the look of helpless fury on Stan’s face. “Or maybe she’s just a bottom feeder? I don’t know.”

Kyle wished he hadn’t given away his food to be stabbed.


	5. Heuristics

Kyle had been trying his very hardest to pretend he was excited to be in South Park. He spent the first day acting like his accelerated classes weren’t just review from his sophomore year at Andover, and he even put in effort getting to know Stan’s friends. The more he forced a smile on his face, the more he noticed every facet of South Park that made him hate being here.

He had tried following his mom’s advice to keep a list of everything he realized he missed or loved about South Park. So far, he had “seeing Stan again” and “being able to wear a hat over my hair”. It wasn’t enough. Stan was busy with practice a lot of the time, and the majority of his teammates were either typical meatheads or pussies who shouldn’t have gone within a hundred feet of a football field.

A car horn blared outside Kyle’s window, and he muttered a hasty goodbye to his parents as he grabbed his bag and ran out of the house. Craig and Tweek were parked in a beat-up sedan, both staring silently at Kyle’s house.

It had been nice of them to offer to drive him. Kyle never had to learn how to drive at boarding school, but nearly all of his classmates were driving themselves to school by now. He wasn’t sure if Stan had pressured them into giving him a ride to school, but he was grateful that it was Craig and Tweek who offered. They were nice and quiet. It seemed like the two of them had their own little world within South Park. Kyle couldn’t quite place his finger on what the attraction was, but he liked that Tweek and Craig cared enough about each other that everything and everyone else in the town became background noise.

Kyle opened the door to Craig’s car and slid in the backseat. He thanked him, but Craig just gave an obliging grunt and started the car.

Kyle wondered vaguely if this was how they always spent their time together. The radio wasn’t on, and they didn’t really interact with each other. Tweek was just grasping a to-go cup of coffee tightly to prevent any spills in the car, and Craig kept his eyes on the road.

 _This isn’t awful_ , Kyle thought to himself with some relief. They drove in silence for awhile, and Kyle let his head lean lightly against the window of Craig’s car. His eyes started fluttering shut, and his head drooped further onto the window.

“Be careful about that,” Craig warned a second too late. The entire window shattered, and Kyle shrank back into the car. Craig slowed the car down to turn and look at him, “did anything cut you?”

Kyle shook his head.

“Sorry about that. Window was broken.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow. Obviously the window had been broken.

Craig put his foot back down on the gas and continued driving as if nothing had happened, but Tweek twisted around in his seat. “Sorry, Kyle. Token punched a hole in the window a couple months ago, and he said he was going to get it fixed, but he actually just used masking tape.” Neither Craig nor Tweek looked like this was odd behavior.

Kyle open and shut his mouth in confusion. “Why’d he punch a hole in the window?”

“Have you ever read those stories about people who are on a lot of coke and lift cars over their head?” That was the longest sentence Kyle had heard Craig use yet. “Token and Kenny both failed, so Kenny bet Token that he wouldn’t be able to punch in the window of a car.”

“Kenny lost the bet,” Tweek concluded helpfully.

Kyle wrinkled his nose. The way they talked about it made it seem like this was just an ordinary day for Kenny and Token. “What about their cars?”

Tweek shook his head. “Token borrows his parents’, and Kenny said we wouldn’t be able to hotbox his car if they broke a window.”

Craig shrugged. “Just tell Token to buy more tape when we see him at school today.”

Tweek nodded back at him.

Kyle hoped the disgust he felt wasn’t evident on his face. South Park was tiny; of course people would get bored and do stupid things. He shouldn’t hold it against them. Except it was _so_ stupid. He thought back longingly on the days when he and his friends would play tennis or go to museums for fun. Of course while Kyle was spending an afternoon at the Met, Kenny and Token were snorting coke and punching in the windows of cars.

The sad thing was, Kyle realized, that Kenny, Token, Craig and Tweek probably had much more vivid memories of how much fun they’d had that night than Kyle had of most nights he’d spent with his Andover friends. He tried to remind himself that that was the benefit of being stupid; it was so easy to be entertained and to have fun.

He’d heard Oliver talk about his childhood in New York. His parents had signed him up for almost every little league sport, got him piano lessons, and put him in accelerated French classes. Oliver used words like “playdate” to describe the afternoons when he wasn’t too busy with all his activities to see his friends. Kyle had spent his childhood taking turns kicking Cartman, Stan, and Kenny in the balls and laughing before things became too painful to be funny. He wondered if Oliver remembered his playdates as fondly as Kyle remembered kicking Cartman in nuts.

They entered the school parking lot, and Craig slowed down to a cruise as he looked for an open spot. Kyle opened his mouth to interject as Craig passed a free parking space, but he closed it reluctantly as he realized where Craig was heading.

An obscenely fancy town car was parked a few rows ahead, and Token climbed out of the driver’s seat, followed by Kenny, Bebe, and Clyde. Kenny and Bebe already had unlit cigarettes in their mouths by the time they stepped out. Kyle couldn’t believe Token’s parents let him drive that nice a car to school everyday, but at least Token was careful enough to not smoke inside or punch holes in the windows.

Craig slowed down in front of them, and Tweek rolled his window down.

Token looked up and grinned. “Having some window problems, man?”

Craig glared at him. “Buy more tape tonight.”

 _Or take it to a mechanic?_ Kyle couldn’t believe the shit Craig let his friends get away with.

Token nodded. “I have some scotch tape in my locker – do you want that?”

Bebe elbowed him. “Hey, man, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. Get some duct tape. The fancy stuff, y’know?” She looked like she was biting back a laugh.

Craig stared at her with complete deadpan. “Have it fixed before my dad gets home tonight.”

“Your dad doesn’t care if the window is made of tape? Just that there is a window?” Clyde raised an eyebrow at Craig and swung his backpack around his shoulders.

Craig gave Clyde his patented look of complete apathy, and Clyde stopped chuckling. Kyle had to admit he was becoming very impressed by how easily Craig could communicate with dead silence. If he had to choose friends of Stan he disliked the least, it would definitely be Tweek and Craig. Being with them didn’t even feel like being in South Park. They would just be Tweek and Craig wherever they were.

Craig almost pushed his foot back on the gas, but he stopped himself. “Kenny.”

Kenny looked away from watching the smoke curl out of his cigarette. “Craig.” _BFG_.

“I told Stan I’d ask you – you’re not dating Wendy, right?”

Bebe snorted unattractively, and Token let out a surprised, high-pitched giggle. He coughed and cleared his throat, trying to make his voice deeper and more masculine.

Kenny grinned a little. “No, I’m not. Why is Stan asking?” Kyle could have sworn he saw Kenny’s eyes dart towards the backseat, but he was focused on Craig by the time Kyle gave him his attention.

Token, who had gotten his outburst under control, frowned a little. “Why isn’t he jealous of me and Wendy? That’s rooted in fact.”

Craig shrugged. “Just checking, dude. I’ll pass it along.” He hit the gas without saying goodbye to the others. Craig was never a person for unnecessary pleasantries when he was going to see all four of them inside the school in less than ten minutes.

As the car receded into the distance, Kenny could have sworn he heard Kyle’s voice saying “ _We told him Wendy would never go for someone like Kenny”_ and Craig muttering back something with the word “jealousy”.

He glanced around to see if any of his friends had caught the comment. From the look of anger on Token’s face and defensive sympathy on Bebe’s, he guessed that they had.

Clyde frowned. He had no idea how out of the loop he was with his friends, but he managed to voice what all four of them were thinking.

“Fucking dick.”

 

***

 

Kenny couldn’t believe that they were assigned work on their second day back at school. Then again, maybe they were always assigned work on their second day back, and he had just always elected not to do it.

He sat in the middle of Token’s king sized bed with Wendy’s carefully organized Psychology folder, notebook, and textbook spread out in front of him. He’d been staring angrily at a page of the textbook for about ten minutes, debating whether or not it was time to give up and google what a _heuristic_ was. Surely, if he kept staring at the word long enough, it would begin to make sense.

Kenny glanced up from the book to admire Bebe and Token passing a joint back and forth in front of the window. He knew this was the most politeness he could hope for; Kenny couldn’t ask them to stop smoking every day, but at least they were keeping the smell away from him. “Do either of you guys know what a heuristic is?”

Bebe looked over at Kenny with half-lidded eyes. “Stop trying to make us feel dumb by making up silly words.”

“I’m serious, dude. What’s the availability heuristic?”

She waved a hand at him as if she were trying to shake off a troublesome fly. “I’m calling shenanigans on this. Ask Wendy if you think it’s a real word, but some of us here prefer to live in the real world.”

Kenny grinned a little as he admired Bebe and Token’s “real world”. Bebe’s eyes were pink and watery, and Token’s were open just enough that someone could call him out for making a racist Asian impression. In fact, they had called Token out for getting “jap eyes” whenever he smoked, but he insisted that he couldn’t be racist because he was black and, furthermore, that they were all being extra racist by coining the term “jap eyes”. No one made fun of him for them again afterwards, but Kenny knew everyone was thinking it. 

“Don’t call Wendy, dude. Just google it.” Token pointed lazily at the laptop on his desk. “Password is Bebeisthebest69 – first B is capitalized.”

Bebe grinned. “I didn’t even set that password myself!”

He smirked at her. “Yeah, but you set it as my iTunes account password, and it’s easier for me to remember if I use the same password for everything.”

“I’m honored.”

“Don’t be too flattered. My memory can only hold one password at a time, and I’m not sure how to change the iTunes one.”

Kenny snickered as he pushed himself off the bed to retrieve the laptop. He wished Wendy hadn’t gone to watch Stan practice today so he could have someone who would actually study with him. Psychology was the only class they shared, and Kenny had been assuming she was going to carry most of the weight.

He didn’t mind studying with Bebe and Token even if their idea of studying involved copious amounts of weed and obnoxiously loud A$AP Rocky playlists. They did, very slowly, get things done. Their work was half-assed and occasionally used either completely incomprehensible phrasing or inappropriate slang words like “dope” and “fucked up”, but Kenny had always been the weak link to their studying in the past. They’d even stopped inviting Kenny to do homework at Token’s for a few weeks after he decided to prank Token by inserting the word “penis” into random sentences of his European History essay. It felt weird being the one to take it seriously.

Token groaned as he tossed the roach out the window. “Alright, Bebz. Let’s learn us some brain stuff, okay?”

Kenny raised an eyebrow at Token.

Token stood up clumsily, grabbing the windowsill to steady him. “I’m gonna, like, go get us coffee first though.” Bebe nodded weakly, and Token disappeared from the room.

Kenny looked at Bebe quizzically. “What’s the point of smoking before you study if you just drink coffee to sober up?”

“Hey, man. It isn’t our fault we now have to smoke 1.5 times more. Give my tolerance a couple weeks to catch up, okay?”

He grinned at her. “I’m glad my absence is so deeply felt.”

Bebe rested her head against the window. “Anyway, it’s Psychology. You’re supposed to be high to study Psychology. It makes it… y’know… like you’re supposed to be.” Ever since they started being allowed to choose electives in sophomore year, the three of them had always searched for the best stoner class South Park offered. Last year, they’d all taken Astronomy, and it had been a great time. Sometimes they did dabs in the parking lot before they went to class. Kenny had failed Astronomy and was forced to take summer school that year, but Bebe and Token squeaked through. If he had to do it all over again, he probably would. He’d just gotten stoned for all of summer school too anyway.

It was memories like this one that made Kenny realize he’d really reached out to Wendy just in time.

Kenny ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stop admiring how nice it felt to not need to wipe his hand off on something after touching his hair. Something stirred in the pit of his stomach as he remembered hands running through his hair and tugging his head back so he could kiss up and down Kenny’s neck.

_Wendy would never go for someone like Kenny._

Fucking asshole.

Kenny hadn’t interacted with or even seen Kyle since New Year’s besides the quick conversation in the parking lot, but he got the impression either Kyle was trying to forget it had ever happened or had actually been blacked out.

He groaned a little as he clicked open the Wikipedia page for heuristics, his eyebrows crinkling together as he attempted to wake up some brain cells that had been dormant since freshman year. “You know getting high won’t actually make Psychology easier to understand?”

Token edged the door of his room open, carefully holding three cups of coffee. For someone who seemed to have no grasp of his surroundings, he was being incredibly delicate with the coffee. Token liked to act like he could get away with the same shit his friends did, but in reality, he was constantly afraid of pissing off his parents. Clyde used to be like that when they were younger, but now his mom was dead, and his dad blamed him, so he could basically do whatever he wanted without being questioned. Kenny had never even seen Clyde look sad about this depressing fact – in retrospect, that might be something worth asking about.

Kenny rushed to Token’s aid and extracted the other two cups off coffee, handing one to Bebe.

“Token, Kenny says getting high won’t make Psychology better,” Bebe whined in a tattling voice.

Token frowned at Kenny. “Hey, man, we said if you were going to go sober, you couldn’t be a bummer about it.” He flipped Kenny off. “Let Bebe live the life she loves.”

Kenny rolled his eyes but nodded. He really didn’t want to lose his connection with his best friends just because he wasn’t also stoned. He loved them both, and he knew their friendship wasn’t just based on drugs. Their friendship was based on being idiots, and Kenny could still do that.

He continued to monopolize Token’s bed and laptop as he finished up his first Psych assignment for the year, and Bebe and Token quieted down as they finished their coffees and started flipping through the short answer questions. For awhile, Kenny felt kind of nice. He was so used to being the major distraction when they tried to study together. Kenny absolutely hated silence. He’d grown up in a house of chaos, and if people were quiet for too long, he assumed something was wrong.

As much as it stressed him out to have the only noises be pens scratching, pages rustling, and coffee being slurped, he felt kind of mature to be able to sit in silence with his friends and do homework together. This was probably what Kyle and Oliver and their merry band of assholes did with their time.

When he noticed Token standing up from his desk to roll another spliff on his bedside table, Kenny decided to split. That was probably not how Kyle and Oliver’s study sessions went. Bebe and Token both looked a little disappointed at Kenny’s departure, and Bebe followed him out of the house to smoke a last cigarette by his bike.

“So did you find out what a heuristic is?”

Kenny shrugged. “I think it’s like a way to make an educated guess quickly?” He had just written two paragraphs on heuristics, but it was a lot easier to remember what they were when Wikipedia was open in front of him.

“Cool. That’s the question I’m on now.”

Bebe leaned against the side of Token’s car and took another drag. Kenny was always struck by sudden moments of intense appreciation for Bebe. Token had been delighted when they hooked up in their freshman year. In the same way the whole school fetishized Token dating black girls, Token loved it when two blondes dated. Kenny wasn’t quite sure why they kept it contained to that one time. Bebe was very pretty. She was slightly chubbier than the rest of her friends, but that was just because she spent the majority of her time hanging out with growing teenage boys who had the munchies. Most of the weight, Kenny and Token had commented on multiple times, had just gone to her tits and ass anyway.

Kenny loved how one minute she could be shrieking and running around like a chicken without a head then the next minute could do nothing but offer a chill smile. He loved how without changing a single aspect of her personality, she could be friends with everyone in school. He loved how ridiculous it was that someone so sweet and well-liked always needed to have some female friend to bitch about to Kenny. Most of all, he loved that he was her favorite and that she loved him just as much.

That level of intimacy came with a price, though. Kenny forgot that Bebe got hurt when he didn’t share absolutely everything he was thinking, and he forgot that Bebe could usually figure it out anyway.

Bebe look a long drag of her cigarette. “You’re good enough for Wendy, just so you know.”

Kenny glanced at her questioningly.

“I mean, I heard Kyle say it. You heard Kyle say it.” He frowned. “Just don’t lose sight of the fact that Kyle’s kind of an asshole, Kenny.”

“I never said he wasn’t.”

She looked him over like he was the biggest idiot she’d ever met. “Of course it was a coincidence that you decided to get your life together immediately after Kyle came back. Of course. That’s convincing all of us.”

Kenny’s jaw dropped. “That’s not why I’m doing this! I’m just proving a point.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t proving that point to yourself.”

He tried to take a drag long enough that he’d never have to respond, but he ended up gasping through a coughing fit. “Is it that obvious?” He hadn’t even thought the words to himself yet. Somehow, he had convinced himself that this really was just something he wanted to do.

“I know. Wendy probably knows.” She shrugged. “I highly doubt Token does, if that makes you feel better.” Bebe ashed her cigarette lightly on the ground.

He opened and shut his mouth a few times. “I didn’t… that wasn’t my intention.”

Bebe shrugged and stamped out her cigarette. “Okay, Kenny. I just wanted to make sure you’ve admitted it to yourself so you don’t unwittingly waste your last year and a half of high school trying to impress an elitist douche.” She gave Kenny a quick hug goodbye. “You’re doing a great job, Ken. Token and I are really proud of you, and I think Wendy’s impressed. But, y’know, I don’t want you to spend your last year here busting your ass to impress someone who’s going to get the fuck outta dodge as soon as he graduates. High school only lasts so long.”

“And you think he’s going to leave again?”

“If he gets his way, yeah.”

“And I’m not?”

Bebe smiled at him with a glimmer of sadness behind her eyes. “I won’t either, and Token won’t. And Clyde, Tweek, Craig, Butters, everyone.” She hugged him again. “I’m not trying to talk you out of anything, but make sure whatever you’re giving up is worth it. He’s just… kind of an asshole, Kenny. If he wants to spend a year here looking down on everyone before he leaves and never comes back, why are you letting that ruin your fun?”

Bebe turned and walked back towards Token’s house as Kenny watched the last embers of his cigarette drop onto the ground. Maybe that was another reason he loved Bebe – her surprising insight. Maybe it was a reason he hated her.

She was right though. Kenny hadn’t admitted it to himself, but he knew it was true. He was just doing this to impress Kyle.


	6. Doppleganger Shift

The first few days of studying had been fun and exciting. It was something new for Kenny to do with his time, and it felt like he was finally discovering what the rest of the world did with their days. Once he’d gotten a few weeks into the semester, he recognized studying for what it was – a chore that no one in their right mind wanted to be doing.

He still went to Token’s house everyday after school to do work, but Kenny was beginning to feel what he could only assume was stress. He’d been putting in effort for three weeks now, and suddenly failure felt like a bigger deal than it had last semester. Maybe those things just fed into each other. The more effort Kenny put into school, the more he worried that effort wasn’t enough.

Token and Bebe had tried to meet him halfway. For the classes they shared, Psychology and Art History, they had promised they wouldn’t get stoned to do their homework together. It sounded like a small gesture, but Kenny was eternally grateful that his friends were continuing to support him even after Bebe had voiced her suspicions about Kenny’s motivations.

His routine wasn’t unpleasant. He knew he could always look forward to getting trashed with Token and the gang every Friday and Saturday. Wendy was too realistic to ask Kenny to give up drugs _and_ alcohol. Even though Token gave Kenny a lot of shit for complaining about being “sober” with a forty duct taped to each hand, they were all being much more understanding than Kenny could have hoped for.

Art History was a joke anyway. Kenny, Token, Bebe and Clyde spent the whole class sitting in the back, trying to point out abstract images of tits and dicks in the art and giggling. When Kenny had gotten called out for laughing, the teacher actually seemed impressed by his insight that, yes, all the trees _were_ supposed to look like penises.

Psychology was different. Almost everyone Kenny knew was in the class. It was the first year South Park had offered it to juniors. He had signed up with his friends assuming that it would be an interesting blow off class, but they’d been duped. The teacher, Mr. Lebaschi, had been pulled in at the start of the semester from a local community college, and he held his students to much higher standards than any teacher who had been acquainted with the caliber of South Park High students would.

Even Wendy was gnawing on her pen anxiously as he pushed through the lecture. If Wendy was stressed out by the material, Kenny reasoned, he had no hope. Part of him wished she would sit in the back with them and come study at Token’s house after school, but he knew Wendy’s help didn’t automatically make her his friend. She always sat in the front with Stan, Kyle, and the rest of Stan’s friends, although she did turn around to shoot Kenny dirty looks whenever Mr. Lebaschi shushed them for talking during class.

For awhile, Kenny was worried that Wendy was on the brink of telling Stan what she and Kenny were doing, but she’d assured him that even as their new relationship got more serious, her promise to Kenny came first. Stan had gotten noticeably colder to Kenny as it progressed, but he managed to stifle his jealousy.

Kenny stared at the PowerPoint slides Mr. Lebaschi was clicking through quickly. Either he’d zoned out for a lot longer than he thought he had, or this was Physics.

Mr. Lebaschi set his clicker down and turned to the class. “Does anyone want to tell me what a Doppler shift is?”

Oh, it _was_ Physics.

Kenny remembered Token pulling him and Bebe into a delighted group hug when they passed Physics sophomore year with a collective C- average. Kenny felt a little betrayed that Physics questions were being brought up in another class – he had thought he was done with it forever.

Next to him, Bebe leaned over to Token and whispered, “what’s a doppleganger shift?”

As usual, only two students in the classroom raised their hand to answer his question. Mr. Lebaschi had tried to encourage other students to participate in the beginning, but he quickly realized that only Wendy and Kyle were equipped to answer any of his questions.

“Mr. Broflovski, do you want to explain to the class what the Doppler shift is?”

Kyle cleared his throat. “It’s when the wavelength of electromagnetic radiation appears to contract or extend based on the relative position of the observer.” Kenny snorted. He bet Kyle studied with flashcards. Like saying terms again and again and again. He seemed like a flashcard kind of guy.

Mr. Lebaschi nodded. “And can you connect that to human memory in any way?”

Kyle was speechless as if he couldn’t wrap his mind around being asked a question at _South Park High_ that he didn’t know the answer to. He just shook his head mutely.

Mr. Lebaschi looked towards Wendy to see if she could provide an answer, but she was just chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. He had accepted that if neither Kyle nor Wendy could answer his questions, he would just have to explain the concept himself.

Kenny’s hand shot up.

“Mr. McCormick?”

Kenny felt himself turn slightly red as he suddenly became the center of attention in the room. He was pretty sure his friends had never heard him speak during any class except for the one time he was called out for making fun of penises. In the front of the room, Wendy, Stan and Kyle craned their necks around to look at him. He was pleased to see Wendy looking slightly intrigued and a little proud, and he was even happier to see Kyle unable to hide the bitterness on his face.

“It’s, uh…” Kenny trailed off. The attention he’d enjoyed a few seconds ago was now just making him stutter and blush. “It could be like…”

Mr. Lebaschi waited patiently as Kenny collected his thoughts.

“Maybe, like, people remember past events more distantly than they anticipate future events?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Kenny bit his lip and looked around again. Wendy, in the front row, looked dazzlingly proud of him. “It’s the correct answer, if so.”

Kenny grinned, and Bebe gave him a supportive clap on the shoulder.

“Do you see any potential benefits or drawbacks of this theory, Mr. McCormick?”

 _Ah, shit. If you give a teacher a fucking cookie._ Kenny had only wanted to answer the one question; he’d already left his participation mark on the class.

“I guess it’s good because, like, evolutionarily it was important to be future-oriented because our ancestors had to always focus on what they were going to do the next day. And, like, sometimes the past feeling distant can be helpful like so women don’t remember how much it sucks to give birth?”

Bebe giggled, and Mr. Lebaschi nodded for Kenny to go on.

“But, like, you were talking about how individuals who go through severe trauma become less and less aroused by memories of the past events – “ he paused as Token and Clyde snickered at the word _aroused_ “ – and, like, I guess if you extended that to anyone who’s gone through minor trauma, it’s important to remember what it felt like so they don’t let the same thing happen again.” Kenny’s stutter was almost gone as he watched Mr. Lebaschi nod along with his response. “It’s kind of like the availability heuristic we studied? Like if past traumatic memories seem super distant and rare, then when we try to use the availability heuristic to make decisions, we could forget significant past events because they don’t come to mind as easily.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief as he finally finished talking and looked around the room uneasily. Craig and Tweek were as disinterested as ever, and Kenny was pretty sure Clyde had been mindlessly doodling for thirty minutes straight, but Bebe and Token had a mixture of shock and awe on their faces.

Mr. Lebaschi smiled at Kenny. “Perfect, Mr. McCormick. And that’s a great segue into our discussion of traumatic memories.”

He continued to click through slides on the board, but Kenny felt like he had gone temporarily deaf. He looked up to the front where Wendy was full-on beaming at him, and Stan was watching her with annoyance. Kyle’s eyes flicked back and forth between Stan and Kenny.

He felt his heart sink as he read the expression on Kyle’s face. He looked more bitter than he did impressed as if he was just angry Kenny had come up with the answer first. He also seemed to pick up on the look Wendy was giving Kenny, and, for the first time, Kenny understood why Stan thought he was supposed to be jealous.

If he couldn’t impress Kyle, beating him at his own game had to be the second best option.

 

***

 

Ever since Kenny had first started speaking up in class, Wendy returned to helping him with renewed vigor. He appreciated the gesture, and he appreciated her increased presence in his life, but midterms weren’t for a week, and Wendy had forced him to come to the library with her every fucking day after school.

Bebe and Token would send him texts from Token’s house about coming to save him like Rapunzel locked in a tower, and he felt a sickening pang in his stomach as he realized his fears were coming true. The more effort he put into school, the less he was going to see his friends. He wished this had been something they’d all decided on doing together, but he knew he couldn’t ask that of them.

Wendy looked up from her textbook at Kenny and jerked her chin out at the untouched problem set in front of him. “Do that.”

He groaned. How did people study all day everyday? This was some new kind of torture, and Kenny had been to hell on numerous occasions.

“When’s it due, Kenny?”

“Tomorrow,” he muttered bashfully.

Wendy reached over to slap the page. “Do it, Kenny.”

He begrudgingly pulled out a calculator, shooting Wendy a glare as he turned his attention back down to the problem set.

This was how most of their afternoons had gone. She didn’t yell at him as much anymore; they would just study in silence. Kenny was pretty sure that weed had never melted his brain as much as a Calculus problem set did, but he couldn’t voice that to Wendy.

He was almost halfway through when he heard a blessed buzz from his cellphone. He pulled it out to read over the text.

_We’re coming to save you, Princess Kenny – T_

Kenny grinned. Token was the only person he knew who signed his texts. It was like he didn’t know that everyone had their friends’ phone numbers saved in their address books. These were the kinds of empty promises Bebe and Token would send him throughout the night just to make sure he knew they were thinking about him, but it never failed to make Kenny feel a lot better.

He flipped his phone back over so he couldn’t see the screen, ignoring Wendy’s inquisitive glance. They weren’t actually going to show up at the library; they were probably just stoned and making damsel in distress jokes to each other.

Kenny gnawed on the eraser of his pencil. “Wendy, will you check this over for me before I turn it in? I think it’s just, like, all incorrect. I have no idea what’s happening here.”

She leaned across the table to look at his problem set briefly. “Yeah, I’ll check it. That looks good, though. It’s just integrals.”

Kenny was almost done with the questions as he heard the thud of two bags being dropped on their table. He looked up to see Token and Bebe pulling out empty seats around him. “Why’d you never respond to my text, Princess K? I was being serious!”

Wendy looked annoyed at the disruption, but she greeted Bebe and Token politely. Bebe slid into the seat next to Wendy and started whispering furiously in her ear. Kenny couldn’t believe these two girls were friends. They’d spent elementary and middle school as, in Bebe’s words, “frenemies”, but somehow high school had calmed the two of them down.

They were the only two girls Kenny knew who hung out mostly with other boys. Bebe and Wendy were on good terms with, again in Bebe’s words, “the bitch clique”, but they’d become more estranged from the other girls when the sexual dynamics between their male and female friends became too difficult to handle. Bebe, who still considered herself close friends with many of the girls in South Park, started getting extra possessive when Kenny, Token and Clyde started sleeping with her friends. She just wanted to be sure she was always going to be the favorite. As for Wendy, she didn’t have much in common with them to begin with, and she didn’t really want to hang out with any of Stan’s ex-girlfriends. Especially not if they were going to spend the whole time whispering bitterly about how Wendy must be cheating on him with Kenny.

Maybe girls felt some sort of need to always have a best female friend to talk about that stuff that boys couldn’t understand. Like periods and queefing and stuff, Kenny assumed.

He liked their friendship. He had seen Bebe with the other South Park girls, and her personality seemed to change dramatically. At least, the side of her that used terms like “bitch clique” and “coke slut” took over. It felt like she was used her friendship with all the South Park boys as leverage over the other girls. That didn’t happen when she was with Wendy. Especially now that Wendy had gotten to know Kenny and Token, it seemed like Bebe was completely herself around her, and he was surprised to find that Wendy actually liked every side of her.

Token watched them whisper back and forth for a second, clearly amused, before he turned to Kenny and pulled the pencil out of his hand. “Calculus later. We have more important things to discuss.”

“The midterm is in a week, Token. What’s more important?”

Bebe and Wendy looked up sharply from their hushed conversation. “What’s more important?” Bebe asked incredulously. “Don’t you know what happens after midterms?”

Kenny looked to Token for answers. “We get really drunk? I might cry a little bit? Don’t make fun of me if I do.”

Wendy grinned. “I already saw you cry that one time you tried to write an essay on a book you hadn’t read.”

“Anyone would have cried. That was incredibly frustrating.”

“It wouldn’t have been that bad if you’d read the book.”

“It was in Spanish, Wendy! I couldn’t find a sparks notes for books in Spanish.”

Bebe cleared her throat. “Okay, while all those things do happen after midterms, something much more important does, too.” She paused for dramatic effect, but Kenny just blinked at her in confusion. “Junior semiformal, Kenny! We finally get to go to Junior semiformal!”

“Why would they put that the day after midterms? It’s like celebrating exhaustion and hopelessness.”

“No, it’s not! It’s drinking away exhaustion and hopelessness!”

Wendy nodded. “It’s a really big deal, Kenny. This is basically our prom.”

“Has Stan asked you yet?” Bebe gushed, and Wendy nodded happily.

Kenny frowned. “I was kind of hoping to just sit in Token’s house and get drunk that day. Are you guys really all going to this?”

Bebe and Wendy nodded furiously. He loved having this view of what teenage girls were like when they were together. It wasn’t anything like the slumber party pornos he’d watched, but it was still pretty endearing.

“But I have a theory, Kenny. Well, actually, Token has a theory. Take it away, Token.” Bebe pointed at him as if she were passing off the talking baton.

Token cleared his throat. “Okay, dude, so we were watching _My Fair Lady_ again last night.”

“Without me?”

He nodded. “I’m glad you brought it back into our lives, actually. It’s a great movie. Anyway, we realized that the perfect place to unveil what a newly formed gentleman you are is at a ball. Unfortunately, people don’t really throw balls anymore, so we have Junior semiformal.”

Kenny wrinkled his nose. “You want to show me off? Everyone at this school sees me everyday.”

“Kenny, you are going to crush this dance, okay!” Bebe burst out. “We’ll get you looking dapper as fuck, find you a hot and classy date, and… I’m not actually sure what else… I’ll rewatch the movie later.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Who’s going to be my hot and classy date?” He glanced at Wendy. “You’re with Stan, yeah?”

She nodded.

“Bebe?”

Token swore. “I wanted to take Bebe, dude. Don’t make me ask a real girl.”

She scowled at him. “Just for referring to me as “not a real girl”, I’m going with Kenny. Fuck you, Token.” Bebe turned to Kenny and beamed. “How do you want to color coordinate?”

He paused. What were they supposed to color coordinate? Suits were black. “You mean like a colored tux or something? I don’t think I can afford that, Bebe.”

“No, r-tard. I meant your tie and my dress. Have you ever watched a prom movie before?”

Kenny could honestly say he hadn’t. He was pretty sure Bebe had made him watch _Mean Girls_ once, and he remembered it being a great movie, but he didn’t remember much about the plot or about the night in general. “Blue?”

Bebe nodded. “Okay! Like sky blue, royal blue, navy blue, what? Blue is a very nonspecific answer, Kenny.”

“Royal blue,” he muttered weakly.

Bebe nodded and beamed at him. “Perfect! That looks great on blondes. You have great taste, you know that?”

Kenny had just said the first color that had come to mind.

Wendy, who had been quiet since Token first pitched his idea, began to look more enthusiastic. “This is a really good idea, Kenny! Ace your midterms; be great at the dance - it’ll be perfect!”

Kenny chewed on his bottom lip. It felt like they were trying to stuff him into a plotline that he was not a part of, but he nodded slowly. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Bebe beamed at him. “You better not forget my promposal, though! This doesn’t count!” She grabbed her bag and stood up from the table, Token following. “Good luck with midterms, guys. Catch ya on the flippity flop.”

Token grinned and waved goodbye to Kenny and Wendy before following Bebe out of the library.

Kenny looked back down at his problem set. “Wendy, what’s a promposal?”

Wendy looked aghast like it was okay if Kenny couldn’t understand Calculus, but not understanding a _promposal_? That was ludicrous. “It’s just asking Bebe to semiformal.”

“But I just did that?”

She frowned at him. “No, it needs to be special. Like hiring a choir of boys to come sing to her or writing it in the sky with an airplane or something.”

“That just sounds like a wedding proposal.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic, Kenny! You have to do it!”

“Why do I have to be romantic if I’m just going with my best friend?”

Wendy looked shocked. “Kenny, this is _her_ Junior semiformal, too. All the other girls are going to be getting promposals and going on romantic dates, and she’s giving that up for you to take her as a friend.” She gave him a dangerous glare. “If you don’t make this magical for Bebe, I will destroy you.”

Kenny rubbed his temples in frustration. “Okay, how did Stan prompose to you?”

Wendy smiled distantly. “He made the football team act like a cheer squad and do a cheer asking me to semiformal. It was really sweet.”

He grinned at her. They talked about her life so rarely, and Kenny had such a bad impression of Stan at this point, that Kenny was relieved to know that Stan did actually make Wendy happy.

Kenny wondered vaguely if it was considered prying to ask whom Kyle was taking to semiformal, but if Wendy wasn’t already aware of any weirdness between him and Kyle, he didn’t want to draw attention to it.

It would probably be a girl.

She would probably be pretty and smart and nice and demure.

Maybe he would fly her in from New York just so he wouldn’t have to go on a date with a South Park girl.

He scowled down at the last Calculus problem in front of him. He couldn’t get the image of Kyle with some flawless girl on his arm out of his mind. Kyle wasn’t even _that_ hot. Plus, he didn’t seem like the kind of boy who would want to go out right after he finished midterms. He probably did that whole “no sleep for a week straight” method of studying.

He started to angrily punch numbers into his calculator. Whatever. Bebe was hot too, and she was cool and fun, something Kenny was sure Kyle’s date would not be.

Maybe Token was right that something significant would happen at semi.

Or maybe Kyle could just not show up.

Kenny didn’t know which he preferred.


	7. Pharmaceuti-call Me

Kenny hadn’t been in the car on the drive back with Token, Bebe and Clyde today. Bebe supposed that now they’d hit the six-day stretch til midterms started, he would be hidden in the library a lot more than usual.

Part of Bebe wondered if maybe she should be taking exams more seriously than she was. At least then she would get to see Kenny more frequently than just while whispering jokes in the back of class. Was this why Kenny cared so much about Kyle being a harder worker than he was? She just wanted to be on the same wavelength as her friend.

She couldn’t deny that Kenny’s resolution was for the best. She, Kenny and Token were all burnouts, but everyone knew that Token would inherit his family’s money and Bebe would be an excellent trophy wife (she always joked that a red wine and valium addiction would suit her quite nicely). Kenny was the one of them who lived in abject poverty. If she was anything other than supportive of his attempts to better himself, she was being a bad friend.

She knew this was all because of Kyle. They rarely talked about it, but she saw the look Kenny got on his face when Kyle was nearby. He straightened his spine. He tried harder in classes. He was doing all of this for Kyle.

She wished desperately that he were doing this for Kenny. It was almost intriguing to Bebe how _not worth it_ Kyle clearly was. Kenny was the most wonderful, high-spirited boy Bebe knew, and Kyle hadn’t made any move to stop being a preppy douche to him since he got back. A greedy little part of her was grateful Kyle didn’t see what he was missing out on. She had no idea how little fun she was having before she found Kenny and Token.

It had started off as a crush – or, more accurately, proving to all of her friends that she could be the girl that Kenny McCormick _didn’t_ just hook up with once and forget the name of. They were only in sixth grade, but Kenny and Bebe had already gotten the two worst reputations in their middle school.

Maybe Kenny felt extra confident with Bebe because he knew that she wasn’t going to be high maintenance, but he took her on the sloppiest date she had ever been on. They got food, and he didn’t pay for her meal. She had stopped caring when he looked at her with a glint in his eye and asked if she wanted to sit on his roof and hurl water balloons at SoDoSoPa buildings.

They went to the drug store to buy balloons, but the best Kenny could find was a box of magnum condoms. Bebe was sure if they went to buy condoms together now, she would probably spend the whole time laughing just because she rarely spent any time with Kenny not laughing, but at the time it was the most exciting encounter she’d had with a boy. They wanted to pick false identities to use around the store clerk and settled on Stan and Wendy, asking the clerk nonsensical questions about the size and stretch resistance of the brand.

The night Bebe lost her virginity, she’d burst out laughing as the boy pulled back to put on a condom because all she could think about was a preteen Kenny asking the store clerk _“I’m sorry, sir? These say “ribbed for_ her _pleasure”. I’m looking for the ones for male pleasure exclusively; my religion doesn’t believe in the female orgasm.”_

They spent maybe an hour on that roof hurling condom balloons at innocent bystanders until eventually Kenny’s phone rang, and he wandered over to the other side of the roof to talk to someone. Bebe had nothing to do but sit there and admire him. Kenny was tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. His skin was perfect, which was rare in sixth grade. She understood why all the other girls in school had tried with Kenny and failed (and why they would continue to try and fail all the way through junior year). He lived in the moment so beautifully, but each girl was just there for that moment. Bebe wanted to be in all the moments.

Her heart sank as Kenny returned and told her that he’d invited his friend Token over to play with the condom balloons. She had expected to get _used_ , not friend-zoned. Part of her wanted to leave before Token arrived so Kenny could know he had fucked up, but she couldn’t convince herself to leave early.

Token climbed out onto the roof and pulled out a baggie of pre-rolled joints. Bebe had never smoked before, but she didn’t want to seem lame in front of Kenny and Token. She spent the majority of the night hacking up a lung, but, when she wasn’t coughing, she felt like she was having the most fun she’d had in years.

The next day at school, Token and Kenny stopped by her locker to tell her that they were going to go smoke and sneak into a movie. They didn’t even extend an invitation; they just waited for her to pack up her bag and follow them.

That was how Bebe beat all the other girls to Kenny McCormick.

They’d had sex once last year. She, Kenny, Token and Clyde had gone to a concert and taken MDMA for the first time. Clyde got sick, and Token spent the majority of his night taking care of him so Kenny and Bebe were left with just each other, flashing lights, and feelings neither of them had ever felt before. The feelings weren’t for each other, and, in the morning, Kenny just gave her a high-five and asked if she wanted come watch a movie at Token’s later.

Bebe was glad, at least, that the person making Kenny want to fix himself was a boy. It was honestly a relief. She didn’t know what she would do if she weren’t the most important girl in his life (besides Karen, who she had bitterly accepted would always come first in Kenny’s life).

She was wrapped up in these memories as she said goodbye to Token and Clyde and entered her house. Her first thought when she got to her room was _fuck, someone broke in_. Then, _what kind of shitty robber would organize her desk?_

Bebe approached the desk, which had been wiped completely clean. A series of tiny orange pills spelled out “prom?” on her desk, and she bit back a grin. She picked up one of the pills and examined it thoroughly – Kenny must have bought someone’s entire Adderall prescription for this. Next to the invitation lay a bouquet of joints shaped like roses with a note tied to it.

She giggled as she picked up the bouquet, pulling off the note. She had no idea how much this had cost Kenny, but of course he wasn’t the kind of date who would waste money on limos and corsages; he knew Bebe better than that.

_I couldn’t afford enough Adderall to spell “semiformal”._

_Hope this makes midterms a little more fun._

_Don’t miss me too much._

_xx k_

_P.S. save us some flowers for after semi_

_P.P.S. share with Token_

It felt like Kenny had desecrated every prom movie she had adoringly watched in her youth, but she was also willing to bet that he’d spent hours pretending to do his homework while he wracked his brain for the perfect way to give Bebe a nice invitation while still mocking her girly need to receive a promposal at all.

Bebe’s smile was about a mile wide as she reached for her phone and texted Kenny back a simple _OK_.

***

 

“McCormick, Black – I said every other seat!”

Token glanced at Kenny guiltily before scooting down another seat. In front of them, Bebe twisted around and snickered. “Watch out, Kenny – Token’s gonna push Mr. L’s dick out of your mouth.”

Kenny crinkled his eyebrows together. “What does that even mean?”

Bebe frowned at him. “I’m on three hours of sleep. You get the idea of what I’m saying.”

“I want to know why there’s a dick in my mouth.”

Clyde looked up from where he was frantically skimming over a study guide and made a loud _shh_. Token flipped him off.

“There’s not a literal dick there, dude, I assure you.”

Bebe grinned. “Token, you’re an asshole. I mean Mr. L is getting off on you as his little protégé.”

“What?”

Bebe rolled her eyes. “You’re the student every teacher dreams of having. A poor, rundown little idiot who somehow begins to master high school-level Psychology. Maybe they’ll make a Lifetime movie out of it. Shame you aren’t Latino.”

He frowned at her. “Mr. Lebaschi and I have literally never talked. I’ve had affairs with teachers before, Bebe. You know I’d tell you if I were.”

Clyde turned around in his seat. “There’s literally a midterm in five minutes. Why can’t you guys just cram and pray like the rest of us?”

Token frowned. “Maybe this blows off steam.”

Clyde flipped him off in return. “Why don’t any of you do anything besides talk about dicks in someone’s mouth?”

Butters looked up loyally from Clyde’s side. “Why, yeah, I’d shove a dick in your guys’ mouths if it’d make you shut up!”

The three of them looked at each other quietly for a second. Bebe was delighted that her back was angled towards Clyde and Butters so they couldn’t see her practically splitting her lip open in rein in laughter. Kenny pulled out his notebook and tried hard to look bashful as he buried his face in it. Clyde gave Token a terse nod and returned to studying.

The silence in the room felt oppressively heavy without Bebe and Token’s voices to break it. People even seemed tentative to rustle their pages too loudly as the students sat and waited for their fate.

Had every other student in this class been completely quiet this whole time?

Kenny had a pretty good idea of how loud they must have seemed when he heard Wendy grinding her jaw two rows back. _Two rows back_.

Kenny glanced around nervously and spotted Kyle just two seats away from Wendy. His head was bent over his notes, but he had a visible sneer on his face. He glanced up to crack his neck and met Kenny’s eyes. Kyle looked as smug as if Mr. Lebaschi had handed him a trophy that read “congratulations – you are the smartest this town has to offer”.

Kenny, at a loss for mature ways to handle the attention, stuck his tongue in his cheek to mime giving a blowjob before rolling his eyes and looking at back at his notebook. He noticed Kyle turning red but fixed his gaze deliberately on his notes. Bebe would have been really proud of this response, and that was mostly why Kenny worried it was the wrong response.

_“Can I have everyone put away any notes or phones? The exams are being handed out.”_

Kenny heard Token’s foot tapping rapidly in the seat next to him so he reached over to give his head an affectionate scratch before he caught a proctor shooting him a dirty look. Kenny pulled his arm back and sank down in his seat. Neither of them had even gotten the test yet – how could they have cheated?

A test was thrown down in front of Kenny, and he stared down at its back page. This was it, and he’d gotten through it. He couldn’t say for sure that any of them had gone well, but he had written an answer to every question, and that was half the battle. He knew he had passed all of those; no one spent every day in a library with Wendy Testaburger for two weeks not to pass an exam, but this was the exam Kenny was really supposed to do _well_ on.

Bebe been making jokes about Kenny in Psychology class for awhile. Ever since Mr. Lebaschi had gently told him he needed to “be more sure of himself and speak with more confidence” as Kenny timidly answered a question, she had a field day. Kenny was right that the only time a teacher had shown him specific attention in the past, he had been having an affair with her, and Bebe was right that Mr. Lebaschi had started to put more attention into Kenny’s participation in class ever since he first spoke. He called on Kenny when he didn’t volunteer to answer, and he paused to ask Kenny’s opinions on topics during lecture. Still, there was nothing sinister in Mr. Lebaschi’s attention. Kenny was pretty sure that this is just what it felt like to have a teacher believe in him, and the class had probably gotten tired of a month of only Kyle and Wendy speaking.

Kenny hoped that he was secretly a Psychology protégé or messiah or something and not just a dick who wanted to give better answers in class than Kyle. He couldn’t deny the twinge of victory he felt in his stomach every time Kyle glared at him in Psychology.

_“Flip over your tests and begin.”_

Kenny went on autopilot as his hand began to write before he even finished reading the essay prompt. He tore through the pages, writing desperately to keep his hand in time with his thoughts. Next to him, Token watched in surprise. They had taken the Calculus exam together, and Kenny had spent the majority of the time sharpening his pencil with a hand-held pencil sharpener. He would sharpen it very slowly until it reached the point where the tip would snap as soon as it touched paper, and Kenny would have to sharpen it all over again. Token had wasted a fair amount of his own time gawking at how careless one person could be.

Kenny wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he dropped his pen and shook his hand out furiously to relieve the cramps. Other students were finishing or had already finished their exams, and most were checking them over again before handing them in. Kenny stretched, cracking his back on either side.

He was _done_.

It felt like a huge amount of stress had been lifted. Like he wasn’t going to ever have to worry about exams again at the end of the semester or during the year after or the stress of getting into college and the ensuing exams in college.

Kenny had spent a month and a half caring about school, and he knew it wasn’t really over, but it felt like he had finished something.

He dropped his head to rest on the desk. He could almost see Wendy in a little track suit and whistle, jogging in place next to his desk and telling him to reread his answers before turning in the exam, but Kenny’s brain felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

Was _this_ what people meant when they talked about how spent their bodies felt after exam weeks? It was like Kenny had been initiated into some exclusive club of people who studied.


	8. Pretty, Pretty Princesses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mini chapter taking place in seventh grade  
> really just wrote this because I like Kenny/Bebe/Token too much  
> the plot will probably show up again any minute now

Girls’ closets were fucking magical. They were like gateways to Narnia, except instead of finding Narnia, there were only more dresses. Kenny happily ran his hand over all of Bebe’s different garments, feeling cotton, silk, velvet, spandex, and really anything he could have ever imagined brushing his fingertips. This was amazing. This was so amazing. In the fourth grade, Kenny had spent a week sewing his own dress out of repurposed shiny pink fabric so that he could play princess with his friends, and now, three years later, he was discovering that fucking Bebe Stevens got to play princess any time she wanted to.

Kenny settled on a black velvet dress with short, poofy sleeves and pearls around the collar. He looked at Bebe with wide eyes. “Woah.”

She smiled back at him welcomingly. “Try it on, Kenny. I just wore it for the Christmas pageant a year or two ago.”

Kenny was already tugging his t-shirt and jeans off as he pulled the dress on over his head. “Did you win?” His voice was muffled as he writhed and contorted his body, trying desperately to fit into a dress that had belonged to an eleven-year-old Bebe.

“It’s not really a winning thing. It’s more singing about how happy we are Jesus was born.”

He had finally gotten the dress to fall over his much broader shoulders, and now he was struggling to zip it up behind his back. Bebe smirked at him and stepped in, zipping the dress to his neck and fastening a little pearl clasp at the top. She stood back to admire him.

When Bebe and Kenny made eye contact, there was no controlling the descent into hysterical laughter. They had been friends, what, a month? Two, maximum? Kenny wasn’t sure how long was the proper amount of time to wait before playing dress up in female friends’ closets, but he hadn’t ever seen the full glory of Bebe’s closet before that day.

This was a girl whose mom _really_ wanted to have the prettiest daughter, he thought to himself grimly. The dresses, the makeup, the heels – Bebe was twelve. Kenny could barely wrap his mind around having so many different things to play in for an afternoon, and Bebe had to wake up everyday and very deliberately put together some new combination of all of these things. Kenny had only started to phase out his parka a few months ago.

Looking at his new friend, Kenny couldn’t help but feel a little proud that Bebe had certainly exceeded her mom’s expectations. She was incredibly hot. Granted, Kenny thought most of the girls at school were incredibly hot. It had taken him over a year of sexual activity to get to a point where he only had to masturbate once a day. Bebe was _more_ than just incredibly hot. She was the prettiest, best dressed, coolest –

Kenny had to stop the thoughts there.

He had to stop idolizing his friends so much. His heroes couldn’t be his friends.

Heroes are symbols. They’re aloof, but they’re also constant. That’s what Kenny wanted to be. That’s what Mysterion was. Heroes don’t even need a power if they create hope because that’s more than important enough.

Friends are fun and warm and prone to human error. Friends make your whole childhood worthwhile by playing video games and sharing books and having sleepovers, but then they leave and stop caring or remembering, and it becomes painfully evident that friends do not swoop in and rescue _anything_. They just give life a sense of purpose until all of a sudden they don’t.

Kenny had been seeing Mr. Mackey every day since he got arrested for vigilantism, and that was about all he had absorbed.

_You just like people too much, Kenny, and it’s not your fault if they suck or don’t care. If you stop liking people, you’ll be a bitter asshole, and if you keep liking people, this will happen again. But you do have to keep liking people. Because no one likes a bitter asshole, m’kay?_

Maybe that wasn’t exactly the way Mr. Mackey had phrased it, but Kenny was old enough to read between the lines.

Somehow he thought getting arrested for vigilantism would be cool. Instead, he just met with his school counselor and talked about how much he missed Kyle and Stan and mostly Kyle.

It was cool Token talked to him now. Kenny was glad they’d become friends. Token and Craig were his “waiting for Mackey” friends – Token because South Park was going through one of their phases when it became okay to blame the only black boy for everything that went wrong in school and Craig because he was _always_ in trouble for flipping off a teacher. Token was a smartass little fucker, and Kenny didn’t think he had to worry about putting him on a pedestal.

Bebe, though?

It was hard to deny that she was South Park: The Best Of.

When they became friends, she was all he could talk about to Mr. Mackey. Kenny was so excited. He knew he could be trying to finger bang her and that would be super cool, too, but something told him that he’d found a friend who was really worth keeping around.

At the end of his first session after hanging out with Bebe, Mr. Mackey had asked him an innocuous question that made his stomach turn.

_So you don’t think you’d like to talk about Mr. Broflovski today?_

He didn’t. Kenny knew he didn’t. He’d watched from the sidelines as Stan slowly rebuilt his life, and now it was his turn.

“Why are you staring at me, idiot? Look at a mirror! You’re so hot!” Bebe grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him to face her mirror.

Kenny froze and smiled. The full-length mirror was decorated with gold trim and a few scratched at unicorn stickers, but he couldn’t get his mind off how good that reflection looked. The contrast of his pale white skin that had almost never been touched by the sun and the dark velvet dress made him feel like he was on the cover of a French movie, and there was Bebe next to him, no less beautiful even in a bra and Kenny's boxers, as she searched for a new dress to try on.

She paused to beam at him. “See? I told you!” Bebe sighed happily as she pulled out a dress she had worn as her cousin’s bridesmaid. “You’re the best straight gay best friend a girl could ask for, Kenny.”

He shot her a grin halfway between the casually flirty one he used on all the girls in their year and the shyly adoring one he had reserved for a very select group of friends. “I aim to please.”

They played dress-up for awhile longer before calling Token to see if he would come be the judge of their fashion show/beauty pageant hybrid. Kenny knew he would get a ton of shit from any of the guys for playing in dresses all afternoon, but, to be fair, he’d seen Bebe Stevens in her bra and underwear countless times that afternoon. Token wasn’t the kind of guy to start shit anyway. If Kenny in a dress was too much for him to handle, he’d just stand there for a second then split and never bring it up again. Kenny loved the way rich people repressed things; it made it so easy for poor people like him to be shameless.

Token didn’t split. He arrived and looked at Kenny like he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea that this was his best friend wearing Bebe’s Sleeping Beauty Halloween costume, then he rolled a joint and watched patiently until Kenny and Bebe had finished their beauty pageant.

Bebe, of course, won. Kenny would have been mad if she hadn’t won.

They tried to force Token into a dress too afterwards just to keep him and Kenny on equal footing, but he insisted that he wouldn’t be caught dead in anything close to a gown. He was much bigger than Kenny already at that point, and Bebe probably didn’t have much that would fit him.

Bebe took a long hit of the joint as she watched Kenny extract himself from her last dress and hang it back up delicately. “For prom, guys, I have the best idea.”

Token rolled his eyes. “That’s in like six years, Bebe.”

She held a hand up to shush him. “What if the three of us all go together, and we all wear dresses, and we’re just like a crew?”

The corner of Kenny’s lip twisted up in a smirk. “We’re going to need to get the _most_ high.” He gestured towards Bebe demandingly for a joint as if to accentuate his point.

Token groaned. “Fuck weed, dude. We’d need to be tripping or something if you want to get me into a dress.”

Bebe beamed at both of them. “Okay, guys, mark it on your calendars. In six years, we’re all going to find three pretty dresses and drop acid and go to prom like the polygamous relationship we are.”


	9. Lilac Aura

Stan and Wendy had insisted that, if they had to go to prom with Kyle and Rebecca, they would not under any circumstances convene at Kyle’s house. Stan had not forgotten getting a drive from Sheila and Gerald Broflovski on their first day of fifth grade – they had insisted on taking so many photos of Kyle, in the same outfit he always wore in front of the same school he’d been at since birth, that both of them had missed their first period class.

Their other options had been the subject of some discussion between the two of them. They had to weigh all the embarrassing qualities of everyone’s parents while considering additional factors like how easily they could drink in the house, what car they could take, and would Wendy have to spend any time alone with Rebecca before Stan and Kyle arrived.

Obviously they were not going to Rebecca’s house. That wasn’t even a question. Stan had no idea how Kyle even found her, but her parents were _strict_ and firmly anti-prom. Stan vaguely remembered Rebecca from Kyle’s crush on her in elementary school; she had, if memory could be trusted, gone off the rails and become a gigantic skank within a day of her first kiss (which, in turn, was within about a day of her first social interaction with a peer). Kyle had assured Stan that she had completely simmered down since her father acquiesced to her wish to study with other children and enrolled her in a private, all girls’ school, but Stan secretly would have preferred spending the night with a ridiculous ho than a pedantic wet blanket.

Stan’s house was always a great option. He had been told by numerous friends that they liked coming to his house to hang out with his dad more than to hang out with Stan. There would be no issues drinking even in front of his parents. The worst that could happen was that Randy decided to go stag to Stan’s Junior semiformal. Unfortunately, Wendy didn’t have a car, and Stan didn’t want to drive over to get her and bring her back to his house.

In the end, they had decided on Wendy’s. Wendy’s parents, in her own words, “transcended the bullshit”. Stan loosely translated this to mean that they didn’t care about prom and would not be pushy about taking photos because they didn’t want them anyway. They didn’t even think to ask Wendy to leave her door open upstairs because they didn’t automatically assume they’d be pregaming.

Stan spent his first half an hour stuttering out compliments to Wendy. He knew she was the prettiest girl in school (bias up for debate), but he had never seen Wendy look so sweet and girly before. Something in the back of his brain suggested that maybe they should skip prom and just go get married somewhere. He was finally distracted by the arrival of Kyle and Rebecca. The four of them settled in Wendy’s room to drink Wendy’s signature cocktail, which Stan had named “this isn’t my signature drink, Stan – all I own is whiskey and lemonade”.

They politely asked Rebecca about her experiences at the private all girls’ school neither of them had known existed before Kyle mentioned it, but she was too boring and Stan was too drunk for her to hold his attention for very long. Whatever sexual awakening she had had in the third grade had gone back to sleep. Stan would never say it in front of Kyle, but it seemed like private school had an uncanny ability to suck all fun traits out of a person.

Wendy had been trying to talk to Rebecca about her favorite books when Stan interrupted the two of them with a clap on Wendy’s shoulder. “Let’s make moves?” He already had his coat on, and Wendy glanced over her shoulder to notice Kyle had done the same.

She nodded gratefully and handed the rest of her drink to Stan for him to chug.

“Are your parents going to want to take photos?” Kyle asked warily, pouring the rest of Wendy’s whiskey into a flask and slipping it into his coat pocket.

She shook her head. “No, but if any of you guys want me to ask them, I’m sure they’d take some for us.”

Relief flashed across Kyle’s face. “No, no, I think I’m good.”

Rebecca nodded. “My parents don’t want me to be paraded around as a trophy.”

Stan glanced Rebecca over thoughtfully. She was kind of hot, but Stan was also _very_ drunk and had still used the qualification “kind of”. Maybe she would look better when she wasn’t standing next to Wendy, who had teetered to her feet clumsily, equally drunk and unused to standing in heels. Stan slid an arm around her waist to steady her, and she flashed him a grateful smile that made him feel like he was going to vomit on her pretty purple gown.

He buried his face in her delicately curled hair like he was trying to guess her shampoo brand by scent only. “I want a photo with you before the night’s over, though,” he murmured softly, and he felt her head bob in a nod.

“That’s what my parents meant about paraded as a trophy,” Rebecca interrupted rudely. “Wendy, you don’t need to let Stan steal your youth and beauty and keep it trapped in a photograph.”

Stan looked up and crinkled his eyebrows together. He looked like he’d been slapped. “I-I’m sorry. That really wasn’t my intent. She just looks so perfect. I don’t want to forget it.”

Wendy glanced up at Stan angrily then flipped Rebecca off. “Go lick a pussy, Rebecca. You’re the reason everyone hates feminists.” Stan grinned widely; he loved Wendy when she got drunk and mean, and he especially loved that she was being mean at his defense (instead of at him, as it often was). “Also, you’re the designated driver. Dibs on _not_ shotgun.”

She laced her fingers in Stan’s and led him out of her room, leaving Kyle behind to apologize to Rebecca on her behalf. Stan shot Kyle a smug grin as they exited as if to say _fuck you for bringing a socially inept nerd with a stick up her ass because my girlfriend is going to be the hottest, coolest, meanest, smartest girl at the dance_.

Kyle’s scowl suggested he understood Stan’s message.

***

“Holy shit, you guys! Holy shit!” Token practically barreled into their table as he and Heidi rushed over to Wendy. “Clyde’s here with his cousin! Clyde’s here with his cousin!” Token paused and put a hand on Wendy’s chair to steady himself as he caught his breath. “Clyde’s…date…is his cousin…” he wheezed out in conclusion.

“She’s not even hot!” Heidi piped up from his side.

Kyle wrinkled his nose. “Would it make it better if she were?”

Wendy rolled her eyes. She had horrible control over her bluntness when she got drunk, and Heidi’s stupidity tested her patience at cheer practice every day. She didn’t trust herself to say something polite in this state, and she didn’t want to hurt Heidi’s feelings. She was just a sweet, dumb, very attractive girl. Wendy could understand why Token had taken that route.

She also didn’t really consider Token or Clyde to be her friends even if she did spend a lot of her time with Bebe and Kenny so she wasn’t sure why he was bothering to approach her table with this news. All-in-all, it was best for her to keep quiet and avoid offending anyone. She knew she’d already made a fair amount of rude comments to Rebecca that night (and even a few to Kyle), but Token and Heidi were just harmless idiots.

“Oh, my gosh!” Heidi surveyed the table approvingly. “Wow, you guys are all _so_ attractive! This is why you should play football, Token! You can look like _this_ and get dates like _that_!” She gestured wildly at the table. Stan and Kyle had found David and other members of the team inside the dance, and they had formed an impromptu football team (and Kyle, who was basically Stan’s second date) table. Wendy did agree that it was a shockingly good looking group of boys and girls, but Heidi had an uncanny ability to shower people with compliments while making everyone in a mile radius feel uncomfortable to the bone.

“I find that racial.”

David looked up at Token and smiled widely. “You should’ve tried out for the team, man. We’d probably be a lot better if we had more than one minority.”

The boy next to him, a linebacker Wendy didn’t know very well, snickered and muttered, “this team has lots of minorities. We’re chock full o’ fags.” He gestured with his chin at Stan and Kyle.

Stan gave him an unphased and unamused glare that Wendy proudly realized he had probably developed from bossing around all these meatheads during practice. “Careful, dude. I’m your captain.” He paused and looked like he was struggling to hold down a laugh. “So don’t fucking call my boyfriend a fag.”

The table practically roared with laughter. Wendy loved watching Stan after he made a successful joke because he always struggled to hide how proud he was that he made everyone laugh, but it was so evident to anyone who watched him closely. Stan glanced at Wendy, noticing her stare, and grinned widely.

Heidi watched their interactions like they were the stars of a commercial for engagement rings. “Wendy, you look _so_ beautiful. Doesn’t she look beautiful, Stan?”

He looked away from Wendy to smirk at Heidi. “She looks beautiful.”

“That dress was made for you, Wendy. Was it actually custom made for you? I’d believe it!”

Wendy shook her head. “Nope. Got it on a rack somewhere.”

Stan snickered a little.

“You know, Wendy, I kind of have Synthesia, and lilac _is_ your aura. Like, you’re just such a light purple person – it’s crazy you chose a dress the exact same color!”

Wendy had to pinch herself under the table to make sure she didn’t lapse into mocking Heidi. She was pretty sure that what Heidi was describing was not a symptom of _Synesthesia_ , and even if it were, Heidi was very clearly confusing her “aura” with the fact that she wore a light purple hat every day. It was tantamount to saying Stan’s aura was a red poof ball or Kyle’s aura was plaid pants.

Part of her wished Kenny had arrived just so she could hear him say “but Kyle’s aura _is_ plaid pants” with the inflection that she knew he would use, but the other part of her was glad Kenny and Bebe hadn’t shown up yet so she wouldn’t feel torn about spending all night with Stan instead of them. He was her date after all.

“Torn” might not have been as accurate a word as “jealous”. Kenny and Bebe were like a two-man party when they weren’t at parties. They absolutely decimated real parties.

Wendy realized she hadn’t responded to Heidi yet, who was still beaming around at everyone at the table. “Thanks, Heidi! That’s such a coincidence! Wow!” She was piss drunk, and even _she_ knew that her fake enthusiasm wasn’t fooling anyone. Stan snorted loudly and tried to cover it up as a sneeze.

Well, her fake enthusiasm fooled Heidi. That was all it had to do.

Heidi drunkenly kissed Wendy and Stan on the top of their heads. “I just want you guys to know – I am 100% voting for you two as Prom Queen and King.” She paused and looked at Token in confusion. “Do we have Prom Queen if this isn’t technically prom?”

Token nodded. “You’ve voted already, babe.”

“Oh.” Wendy had forgotten that not only was Heidi a total ditz, she was also probably piss drunk. She shouldn’t be holding the poor girl’s stupidity against her. “Did I vote for Stan and Wendy?”

Token bit his bottom lip. “Ah, I don’t remember. Probably.”

Wendy smirked at Token’s blatant lie, and he shrugged sheepishly.

“Oh, Token!” Heidi squealed, grabbing his arm and gesturing towards the door. “Your friends are here! _Wow_! Bebe is _beautiful_! Look at them! Don’t you love when couples look like siblings? Like Stan and Wendy! Wow!”

***

Bebe clutched Kenny desperately for support as she tripped over her own feet, but Kenny was doing very little to provide any real stability. She knew she hadn’t chosen the appropriate height of heels for how drunk she was, but in her defense, she hadn’t realized she was going to be getting this drunk.

Hadn’t the whole point of the night been to show how classy she and Kenny could be?

She could barely remember now.

Kenny had shown up on time to pick her up with a full box of Franzia and two red Solo wine glasses. At the beginning, they were both all about the classiness. Bebe had invited him in for an _aperitif_ even though she didn’t know what that word meant (she had, of course, just meant she was inviting him to pregame in her room).

She was pretty sure they’d taken photos for her mom or something.

Bebe actually had very little idea what was happening right at that very moment or at any prior moment in her life.

Kenny taught her how to “slap the bag” which he had likened to a keg stand except with boxed wine and no keg, and Bebe had really caught on quick.

Jesus, had she and Kenny finished a whole box of wine?

That had to be scientifically impossible. They’d be dead right now, but it was the only explanation Bebe could come up with for why the world was spinning around her so much.

She shook her head out, trying to gain some grasp on her surroundings, when Kenny’s arm snaked around her waist and led her deliberately towards the infamous punch bowl.

Bebe wrapped both arms around him desperately, and Kenny leaned down to murmur “ _heel toe heel toe heel toe_ ” in her ear. She giggled and tried to follow his advice, but when just the heel of her stiletto hit the ground, her leg slid forward dangerously, and Kenny had to catch her before she dropped down in a full split.

“That was my mistake. Actually just kind of stomp so all of your foot hits the ground at the same time.” Kenny let go of her waist and demonstrated stomping around like a monster for her, and Bebe laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever seen him do.

She reached out like a child, letting Kenny know that she would not and could not continue walking unless there was someone there to hold the majority of her weight. Her hand passed through the air, and, when she blinked her eyes curiously, she realized she could see four Kennys peering at her curiously. _But which one was the real one?_

She grabbed at where she thought Kenny was, and an unfamiliar female voice shrieked “ow!” before arms had wrapped back around her waist.

“Jesus, Bebe, you’re so fucking trashed,” Kenny chuckled in her ear. Bebe reached up happily to pet his head, but he grabbed her wrist delicately. “Be careful, dude. The top hat is what makes this outfit.”

The laugh that came out sounded embarrassingly similar to a delighted baby.

“I love the top hat!” Bebe cried happily. “You’re such a classmaster, Kenny.”

“Thanks, babe. Back atcha.”

They had stopped moving. Bebe blinked around hazily to realize that Kenny had reached his destination and was currently fumbling inside his coat for a flask. “Cover me, Bebz. I’m going to spike this, then we can go find Token?”

“B-but why are you wasting your own vodka on everyone else in the year?”

Kenny shrugged. He was too drunk to be stealthy, and Bebe was too drunk to do anything so they ended up just standing over the punch bowl as Kenny flagrantly emptied a flask into it and gave it a stir. “Someone has to spike the punch bowl, man. Consider this me living out my dream of being the Bart Simpson of our high school.” He tightened the lid on the empty flask and put it back in his pocket, glancing around surreptitiously. “I felt like it would be harder than that.”

Bebe shrugged. “We’re like two hours late.”

He frowned. “Well, now that I wasn’t almost caught, it does kind of feel like I wasted my vodka.”

She tugged on his shirt. “Token time! Token time! Let’s go find Token!”

Kenny grinned at her and stroked her hair. “Stay this drunk all night, and you probably won’t realize how annoying Heidi is until the morning.”

Bebe felt a small bristling in her chest like deep down she knew someone suggesting she was on the same wavelength as Heidi was an insult, but she allowed Kenny to lead her through the crowd in search of Token and Heidi.

***

If there was one thing Kenny hated about school dances compared to normal parties, it was the fact that everyone spent most of the time socializing at their tables. And he couldn’t smoke inside. And he wasn’t supposed to drink. And there were teachers. Really, though, beyond cigarettes and alcohol and chaperones – he just wanted everyone to be dancing their asses off all night long.

It had taken him awhile to collect all his friends from their various other friends, and it had taken him even longer to make sure they were all drunk enough to dance, but he had finally done it.

Surrounded on all sides by drunk teenagers sitting at their tables and eying them judgmentally, Kenny, Bebe, Token, Heidi, Clyde, and Clyde’s cousin were absolutely losing their shit. Kenny had convinced Craig that the least he could do if he and Tweek weren’t willing to dance with them was to bully the DJ into letting them take over the music for the rest of the night. It had worked flawlessly.

Another Chief Keef song (the majority of Kenny’s playlist) came on, and he let out a loud whoop. It was probably not super humble to be so excited by the songs on his own playlist, but he had chosen them specifically for his enjoyment. It wouldn’t make sense if he didn’t like the music better than everyone else.

“This song is the fucking anthem,” Kenny grinned as a swung his arms around both Bebe and Token. Bebe was no more put together than she was when they had arrived at the dance, but she had ditched her shoes and seemed to be really feeling the music. He and Token had expressed mutual excitement when they met up at finally having found someone with enough brain cells firing to hold a conversation with.

Token grinned. “Hate Bein’ Sober?”

“The anthem!” Kenny pulled his friends tighter into his chest, rapping along to the song in a nasally voice he saved just for getting drunk and singing.

Bebe gestured over towards Wendy’s table weakly. “Get her.”

“Is she a fan?” Kenny stopped rapping to look over at Wendy excitedly. “I don’t know why we never talk about him!”

“Nah, dude, she’s saying she wants to hang out with Wendy. Learn to speak Drunk.” Token rolled his eyes and untangled his arm from Kenny’s shoulders, walking over in the direction Bebe had gestured.

Kenny glanced down at Bebe who nodded like she completely understood what Token had just said, and she allowed Kenny to carry her (because walk was too loose a term for it) to Wendy’s table.

“Wendy!” Bebe squealed happily and pulled away from Kenny, enveloping her in a suffocating hug. “You look so pretty! You’re a princess! Oh my God!” Besides for when she was singing, it was the most coherent Kenny had heard her all night. Bebe had an incredible ability to sing every word of every song that played at a party even if she was too drunk to say “hi” to her own mother.

Wendy squealed back and jumped up to return the hug. Bebe was a very special kind of blackout unique to just Bebe, but everyone else at this table looked trashed. They hadn’t even been bothering to hide a flask in someone’s pocket after emptying it so they were strewn across the table.

“Bebe, you look so beautiful! Kenny, Token, I was looking for you guys!” Wendy pulled away from Bebe to beam at them. Her cheeks got rosy when she drank a lot, Kenny noted. It was incredibly endearing. Kenny picked her up in a hug and spun her around in the air, stumbling enough when he set her back down that Stan looked like he was about to jump out of his chair.

“Fucking gorgeous, dude,” Kenny grinned at her. Token grunted his agreement.

The contact between Wendy and Kenny had started girls at the table whispering. At the time, it didn’t click fully for Kenny what they must have been talking about. He didn’t even think to check if Stan looked mad that he was with Wendy. He just started talking with her giddily, occasionally stopping to touch a random area of her body and give her a compliment.

She grinned widely. “So you went with the top hat idea?”

“It’s really adding a lot of class, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I guess any class that you _do_ have, you have because of the top hat.”

Bebe yelped as she heard the beginning of the new Drake song. She started pushing on Wendy and Kenny meaningfully.

Kenny pushed back. “Use your words!”

Bebe shook her head and got up in Kenny’s face silently. If he’d been _really_ astute that night, he would have noticed the girls at the table looking slightly angry as Bebe got between him and Wendy. Of course, he didn’t notice any of this. Bebe looked like she was about to speak for a second then burst out in song as Drake’s part started. Kenny let out a startled laugh; it was better planning than he thought she was capable enough right now.

“Wendy, come dance.” Kenny ducked away from Bebe, and a girl at the table actually let out a sigh of relief. “We wanna hang out with you.”

Wendy grinned and nodded. “Is it okay if I go with them for a little bit, Stan?”

He nodded begrudgingly, glaring at Kenny.

Bebe appeared to have gotten distracted because before Kenny could collect her to bring her back to the dance floor, she burst out, “nice plaid pants, Kyle!”

Kenny’s mouth opened slightly in surprise, his gaze flying to Kyle for the first time that night. Kyle turned away from a conversation with Rebecca, looking slightly bemused. He looked Bebe over for a second then turned back to Rebecca; Kenny could only assume it was because Bebe looked far too drunk and crazed to deal with right now.

“Did none of you guys comment on that yet?” Bebe was slurring pretty badly, but she was becoming the most intelligible she’d been all night. “He looks like a fucking douchebag. You guys are being bad friends if you _aren’t_ making fun of him.”

“Bebe.” Kenny’s voice was getting very tense.

“Yeah, Bebe, come dance!” Token urged, grabbing her hand.

Kenny blamed Drake. Bebe was fueled by alcohol and Drake, and now she was trying to take out all the anger she had built up over the past few months for what she thought Kyle was doing to Kenny.

“What’s wrong with plaid pants?” Rebecca asked indignantly. “It’s better than a sheer dress!”

“The bra and underwear are part of the outfit – lay off her!” Wendy gripped Bebe’s waist defensively. Kenny got the impression she’d been about to reach her breaking point with Rebecca soon no matter what, especially considering no one had let Bebe know how bad an idea a sheer dress is more than Wendy had.

Bebe frowned at Kyle. “I guess it makes sense that no one sees you as a friend enough to tell you how dumb you look ‘cuz you think that you’re better than everyone here, but I’mma let you in on a secret, Kyle.” Kenny almost clamped a hand over her mouth. “Errbody hates you, Kyle. You’re a dick. You can try to pretend that it’s you who doesn’t wanna be our friend, but nah. You just suck.”

Kyle was practically shaking as he stared at Bebe with wide eyes. “Dude, what the fuck did I do to you? I’m sorry if I don’t like the fact that all you do is get high and act like an idiot? Is that what I’m supposed to be apologizing for?”

“C’mon, Bebe, c’mon,” Wendy urged, tugging on her arm. “You’re going to miss all of Drake.”

Bebe pulled away from Wendy to grab Kenny’s hand. “You don’t need to apologize for being a dick, Kyle. I know you can’t help it. I just wanted to make sure you know you are one.” With that, she stormed away, or, rather, let Kenny and Token carry her away quickly.

Kenny tried to shoot Kyle an apologetic look, but he couldn’t see Kyle’s face. He did see all the girls at the table whispering to each other urgently, and he could only assume they were discussing Bebe’s outburst at Kyle, but he noticed one girl glaring at his hand in Bebe’s.

***

It had been almost an hour since Wendy had left with Kenny, Bebe and Token, and the table felt cold and tense. People were still drunk and laughing, but Kyle knew they felt the tension. It was like they had been in a happy bubble that Kenny came over with a big pin and burst.

An hour ago, everyone was beaming at Stan and Wendy and telling them how they were the most attractive couple in the universe. Now Stan was chugging cups of the spiked punch and joking too loudly with his teammates, and people at the table kept looking at him warily like he might explode at any second. It had been fine listening to Rebecca drone on about science and literature, but she seemed to have found the whole display disgusting and hadn’t stopped sneaking in snide remarks about Bebe in the past hour.

Maybe, Kyle thought, if he pretended everything was okay for long enough, it would be. Or it would be time to go home. God, please let it be time to go home soon. The other people at the table had awkwardly assured Kyle that they didn’t hate him and his pants were fine, and Kyle hadn’t talked to anyone other than Rebecca ever since. He had vaguely brought up his exams, and it had sent her into a long rant about some book about neopsychoanalytic theory.

Finally, Stan looked over grumpily. “Can you guys can about anything other than school? This is not fucking school.”

“This isn’t school either!”

“It’s just a book she’d reading,” Kyle muttered in a dead voice. He knew he’d always be Stan’s nerdy friend, but he really didn’t hope his opinion of him had changed so much that he thought Kyle was _enjoying_ this conversation.

Stan rolled his eyes understandingly. “Whatever, dude. That question kicked my ass. Drink more and join the conversation.”

“What question?” David looked away from the group to examine Stan closely. Kyle could tell David had been the guy to replace him as Stan’s best friend when he left, just like how they had a competition to replace Kenny as their friend when they were in third grade. Kyle liked the dude. He just wished he would stay a _little_ further in the background. It was clear that he’d just been trying to find out if Stan was okay about Wendy for the past hour, and he could have just let Kyle handle it.

“Some question on our midterm about psychoanalysis. It was balls. He definitely never said it in class.” Stan had read it over twice and decided to just leave it blank and forget about it.

“Oh, what was it on?” Rebecca sounded intrigued. “Maybe my book talks about it!”

Stan waved her off like a pesky fly. “It’s fine. Less school, more alcohol.”

“It was like comparing Freud’s psychoanalytic model of depression to Beck’s,” Kyle explained quickly when Rebecca looked hurt by Stan’s disinterest. “It was three days ago; no one wants to think about it.”

“That shit _sucked_!” David cried enthusiastically. “Who the fuck was Beck? I didn’t even answer that question.”

“Same.” Stan gave him a bitter grin. At least they were star athletes.

“Aaron Beck,” Rebecca supplied, ignoring all requests to forget about the exam. “He said that depression was caused by the cognitive triad which is negative views about the self, world, and future. It replaced the psychoanalytic model.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know what the psychoanalytic model i-.” He faltered as Kenny and Wendy approached the table. Wendy smiled at him widely, and Kenny looked like he was trying to catch Kyle’s eye. Whatever. Kyle didn’t _want_ to make eye contact with Kenny.

“The psychoanalytic model is that it’s due to repressed trauma in your past,” Kyle mumbled vaguely, deliberately keeping his face angled away from Kenny. Wendy had pulled out the chair next to Stan and was whispering quickly into his ear. He looked much more at ease now that she was back, and Kyle didn’t really expect a response from him.

David made irritatingly understanding eye contact with Kyle and shrugged. “Well, I fucked up that whole exam. Fuck me, I guess.” He turned back to his friends, leaving just Kyle, Rebecca and Kenny (not including the furtively whispering Stan and Wendy who really didn’t seem to give a damn about any world other than their own).

“Were you talking about the Psych exam?” Kenny asked, after a few seconds of trying to catch Kyle’s eye.

Kyle sighed. “Yeah.”

“Freud’s model of depression?”

“It doesn’t have to be by Freud to be part of the psychoanalytic model,” Rebecca added helpfully. “He just founded the school.”

“Yeah, but the question said Freud.” Kenny blinked at Rebecca a couple times. He looked back and forth between Kyle and Rebecca as if trying to gauge whether this was, in fact, Kyle’s date. When he finally smiled at her, it seemed slightly malicious. “Anyway, that’s not what Freud’s theory about the cause of depression was.”

Kyle was too surprised to not look at Kenny. “Hm?”

“That’s not what the theory is. Look, dude, I’m really sorry about what Bebe said. She was super drunk and way out of line, and she’s going to come over here and apologize later if you want.”

Kyle furrowed his eyebrows together. “The theory is definitely repressed trauma.” He lowered his voice to continue speaking as the principal stood up at the front of the gymnasium with a microphone, ready to introduce the Prom King and Queen awards.

“No, it isn’t, dude. That’s just what Freud says about everything. You aren’t listening to me. I’m really sorry.”

“What’s the theory, then?” Kyle stared defiantly into Kenny’s eyes, holding his chin out proudly enough to tell Kenny that he was not going to acknowledge the apology.

Wendy stood up shyly and waved goodbye to everyone at the table before she darted up to the front of the gym with the principal and a white envelop in her hand. Stan gave her a peck on the lips before she left, and Kenny, who had clearly forgotten that she was class president until that moment, quickly wished her luck as she walked away from the table.

Kenny turned his attention back to Kyle, tuning out an unnecessary speech on the _meaning_ of being Prom Royalty. It was all such bullshit. “It’s- dude- ugh, fuck, will you please listen to me? It’s anger at the world turned inwards. Just say you fucking forgive me, and I’ll go get Bebe.”

Rebecca breathed out. “Oh, he’s right.”

Kyle turned slightly red. “No, it’s repressed trauma.”

“No, dude, seriously, I get where you’re coming from because Freud says that about everything, but he was referring to like the specific theory. You’re really just going to keep ignoring me, aren’t you?”

Rebecca nodded along with Kenny, and Kyle turned even redder. “Whatever, man. At least I didn’t have to blow the teacher for the answers.”

Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Word. I knew you heard that conversation. I didn’t blow him. I just did the homework.”

“But you have had sex with teachers for better grades before, right?”

Kenny stared at Kyle in some mixture of surprise and disgust.

“Did you… just have sex with them and keep your bad grades?” Kyle tried again.

“That’s not what fucking happened!”

Maybe Kenny’s voice was a little bit too screechy because Stan turned around in his seat to shush both of them. “Shut the fuck up, guys. Wendy’s about to talk!”

“Aw, you wanna record it on your iPhone?” David crooned, elbowing Stan in the side. Kyle didn’t really care; he had more important things to worry about than David being a possible threat to his spot as Stan’s best friend.

Kyle shrugged. “I just figured if you were gonna be a slut, you might as well be a whore and get something out of it. It’s okay if you weren’t doing it for the A’s, Kenny. That’s integrity.” The voice coming out didn’t sound like his. Was he this angry that Kenny had gotten an answer right that he hadn’t? Kenny had come over to the table to apologize, and Kyle was not the type of boy to start fights. He chugged the rest of his punch. Oh, well. If Kenny’s friend could tear into him in front of everyone, he was pretty sure he wasn’t being a bad person for bringing up something that Kenny’s own friends had brought up.

Kenny opened and shut his mouth a few times. “Be careful about that anger at the world turning inward, man.”

Kyle stared at Kenny with wide, goading eyes. Kenny flinched a little just from the gaze. “Be careful you’re not still obsessed with things from when you were a kid.”

“Dude, fuck you, man. I came here to apologize, not to listen to you talk out of your ass.”

_“Hi, guys, I’m your class president, Wendy, and I’m going to announce the Prom King and Queen of this wonderful Junior semiformal.”_

Stan shushed Kenny again.

“I’m speaking in clearly rooted fact, Kenny,” Kyle hissed under his breath. “Maybe the fact that you take facts about your life as insults means something about your life?”

Kenny looked stunned. “I didn’t do anything, Kyle! I’m just… like… not really sure why you’re saying this. I didn’t do anything to you.” His voice was breaking a little, but Kyle tried not to feel too guilty about it. He’d probably just had too much to drink or something.

_“Tonight’s Prom Queen is…. Oh. Ah. It’s me. That’s kind of embarrassing. Okay. Thank you, guys.”_

There was a murmur of appreciative laughter and applause. Even over Stan’s thunderous applause, Kenny could hear Bebe and Token screaming their lungs out as Wendy put the crown on herself. Kenny looked away from Kyle to give a loud, half-hearted whoop.

Kyle punched at Stan’s shoulder. “Congrats, dude. On both.”

Stan shushed him again, practically glowing with pride.

_“And tonight’s Prom King is S- Oh. Kenny McCormick.”_ Wendy looked around. She had blushed humbly when she won, but she was now officially bright red. She laughed nervously. _“I clearly do not have a career announcing prizes on a game show.”_

There was another roar of applause, but it seemed muted as Stan turned from the stage to stare at Kenny in horror. Even though he was already on his feet, Kenny didn’t go to the front. He looked like he was trapped underneath every stare in the room.

_“Ah, Kenny, we have a crown for you. Come to the front of the gymnasium.”_

Kenny stumbled away from Kyle and Stan towards Wendy’s voice. Once he had started walking, the applause began again. Kyle was shocked to see how many girls in the room were cheering as Wendy put the crown on Kenny’s head and hugged him. Token and Bebe’s screams were almost deafening. Only Stan’s table was silent as they watched him watch Kenny wrap an arm around Wendy’s waist and flash a deceptively calm smile for a photo.

Wendy giggled nervously into the microphone again. “Ah, wow, okay, sorry, it feels so weird to announce yourself. Pl-“.

Kenny grabbed the microphone from her hand and grinned. “Please welcome your Prom King and Queen, Kenny McCormick and Wendy Testaburger, as they share a… wait, Wendy, what did you call it? “First dance” is what they say at weddings, right?” He paused for a second as Wendy whispered in his ear. He held his hand over the microphone, but the students could still clearly hear him reply, “Oh? Really? That shouldn’t have been so hard to come up with. Okay.” Then Kenny cleared his throat and pulled his hand away from the microphone. “Please welcome your Prom King and Queen as they share a dance!”


	10. The Gold Standard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone missing high school melodrama?  
> don't - it sucked

Kenny had been anticipating a high school movie’s prom bullying scene – sneers, gossip, jealousy, and maybe pig blood if Stan had easy access to it. Hell, he could have even imagined a Disney princess situation where someone swept in and saved Wendy from poor, filthy, burnout Kenny. He had never imagined receiving a positive response, and he certainly hadn’t imagined that positive response feeling even worse than his worst case scenarios.

But, as Wendy grabbed his hand and drew him out onto the dance floor, he was met with nothing but a sea of approving faces. Everyone – girls he had fucked, people who used to buy his weed, teachers who had flunked him – was looking at Kenny and Wendy with that sickeningly supportive look he recognized from walking around South Park with Tweek and Craig. They had been receiving the same sneaky gazes for seven years now. Kenny realized, with growing horror, that he and Wendy had been _shipped_. Worse than that, people now thought that the relationship was confirmed.

Kenny wanted to drop Wendy’s hand and scream at the eager crowd. _Don’t you remember she has a fucking boyfriend? I am_ infamous _for using girls. Why would you want this for her?_ A lot of him hated them for thinking he could ever date Wendy. Stan was barely good enough to date Wendy, and he was the closest thing South Park High had to a golden boy.

For someone who actively enjoyed having sex in public places, Kenny felt incredibly exposed in front of everybody as Wendy wrapped her arms around his neck and the music began. She pulled herself in a little closer to Kenny like he should take the hint and touch her or move or _something_. It was probably best if Kenny pretended he didn’t notice.

“Kenny, put your hands on my hips.”

“Hell no, dude, do you know how easily Stan could kick my ass?”

Wendy pursed her lips in irritation. “I’m very aware, but this is _my_ dance, and _I_ threw it, and _I_ planned for Prom King and Queen to have a dance. So put your hands on my fucking hips and stop messing up my vision.”

Kenny obediently gripped her hipbones lightly, trying to make sure there was space for a balloon to fit between their chests. “So, if you were going to rank your priorities – having a boyfriend versus being on a committee that organizes dances – how would you rank them?”

“I don’t have to,” she snapped. “They’re both going to be fine.”

“Wendy, I think you should just go talk to Stan and explain this isn’t a big deal.”

She huffed. “Did you have to put your crown on top of the top hat, Kenny? It looks dumb.”

Kenny looked scandalized. “You loved my top hat an hour ago!”

“I didn’t realize you were going to be the poster boy for my winter semiformal! I voted for Stan!”

“I voted for Stan, too, Wendy! In no way is this some secret scheme I concocted so Stan Marsh could kick my ass.”

They were quiet for a bit as vocals of the song began. Wendy was staring at the floor with her forehead resting lightly on Kenny’s shoulder, and Kenny had no idea what she was thinking. Kenny had no idea what he was thinking.

“Is this Jack and Diane?” Kenny asked finally.

“Yeah.”

“Did you choose this song?”

Wendy nodded.

“So you knew this moment was going to be depressing?”

She rolled her eyes and didn’t answer.

When Kyle had his going away party, Randy Marsh had made him a video compilation of photos of him and his friends set to Randy’s own drunken cover of this song. Kenny wished he had his parka strings to pull on like he did back then to hide his embarrassment. When photos of Kenny with Kyle started showing up in the video, the hood also worked to hide his sadness. Why had he ever taken that fucking thing off? All the top hats in the world couldn’t make up for the loss of his parka hood.

“Are you okay, Kenny?”

“Wha- Yeah?”

“Your eyes are kind of watery. Are you stoned?”

“No, Wendy!” Kenny frowned. “This song weirdly gets to me. I know it sucks. I think they played it at Kyle’s going away party in middle school.”

She nodded slightly. “Huh. I knew John Mellencamp could make people cry; I just never thought it would be any of the people I hang out with.”

“You overestimate your friends.”

“More accurately, if a friend of mine started crying during a John Mellencamp song, the friendship would probably have felt like it naturally ran its course. For me, at least.”

Kenny bit back a laugh. He really didn’t want this to look like they were flirting with each other. He was losing any chance of plausible deniability. “I gotta say, I’ve cried to this song multiple times. Am I voted off the island?”

“Nah, you’re just adorable.” Wendy paused and smiled at him, and Kenny felt his stomach curl up like a scared armadillo. “Stan helped me pick this song, too, anyway. That must’ve been some party.”

“It was a lot.”

Wendy had been there. The whole grade had been there. It was very rare that students moved to or from South Park, and that had been the first time that the student moving away was someone with roots in South Park whom the other students would all genuinely miss. It had been called Bon Voyage Kyle and had become a fairly infamous party. Stan had gotten completely wasted as he’d been doing more and more as the day of Kyle’s departure drew nearer, but a lot of other kids drank too, many of them for their first time. Bebe liked to joke that Bon Voyage Kyle was the gold standard of parties because nine people had cried at it, and they had never been to a party in high school where so many people cried again. They got up to seven on the night that Bebe lost her virginity (although Bebe swore the two things were not correlated), but Bon Voyage Kyle remained the gold standard.

They danced in silence for awhile longer as Kenny’s mind brought him back to Kyle’s bathroom, sitting perched on the tub unhelpfully while Stan threw up and Kyle tried to take care of him at his own going away party.

The tempo of the song changed, and Kenny let out an audible sigh of relief. That brought two pieces of good news. First, it meant the song was halfway over – Kenny had listened to it enough times to know when the beat changed. Second, it meant he no longer had to slow dance holding Wendy to his chest. He let go of her and took a step back, crooning along as he did an over-the-top body roll. In another generation, Kenny could have been considered a heartthrob. In his own, he was just considered immature and too attractive for his own good.

A chorus of girls’ voices started giggling excitedly as he rolled his body again, and he thought back wistfully on the days when he was just the school’s resident scumbag. Fucked by many, loved by some, but respected by very few. It was exactly how he deserved to be treated.

“Feel good to be King?” Wendy muttered sardonically as she pulled Kenny back in for a slow dance.

“So good I probably don’t even need to go to prom next year.”

“Fuck that. You’re just worried you won’t be able to defend your title.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “Is that really what you think?”

“Of course not.” Wendy looked at him, the full extent of her irritation and concern clear for once. “I don’t even know how… I mean… It’s really not fair, Kenny. Stan and I kind of campaigned. Did you talk to anyone besides your five friends tonight?”

“I have more than five friends. I can count how many people I’ve talked to on two hands, but I definitely need two.” Kenny paused and scanned his memory to make sure this statement was true. He was pretty sure he’d talked to more than five people. Definitely if he counted Kyle’s table.

“So why did people vote for you instead of Stan?” Wendy’s voice cracked a little. She knew the answer. Kenny knew she knew the answer, but she definitely wasn’t going to admit it to herself.

“People voted for _us_ , Wendy.”

She shook her head. “No, I think… half the school must have voted for you and Bebe, and the other half must have voted for me and Stan. That’s the only way it makes sense.”

“Then why didn’t Stan and Bebe win too? If this were some kind of Prom Royalty Orgy, I would be so about it.” That sounded like a fucking great time. Winning with just Bebe sounded incredibly fun – it would be the most iconoclastic semiformal of all time. Hell, Kenny would have preferred being the Queen to Stan’s Prom King over this.

“Kenny. Fuck.” The song was winding down, and the time for them to face their fears was rapidly approaching.

“It’s okay, dude. Just go find Stan after this and explain this was an accident. I’ll even give him my crown.”

“Come with me? You can help convince him!”

He dropped his hands from her hips as the song ended and took a large step back. The student body burst into thunderous applause, and Kenny could have sworn he heard _kiss kiss kiss kiss_ being chanted from one of the tables. He gave Wendy a weak smirk and glanced around the gymnasium. “You mean with my total lack of chemistry with you?”

***

“If I were Stan Marsh, where would I be?” Kenny hummed under his breath. “And I have to play this game assuming the answer isn’t “beating up Kenny McCormick”?”

“This is serious, Kenny!” Wendy had pulled her crown off and was turning it over and over in her hands anxiously. “Did you see him anywhere inside?”

He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. Wendy would have been amused under other conditions to see how second nature it was for Kenny to use Token’s stupid cigarette extender now, but nothing felt particularly funny anymore. He lit it, surveying the empty parking lot like Stan might have been hiding when they arrived. “Did you text him?”

“Literally ten times.”

“Try an eleventh?”

Wendy groaned and sank to the pavement, dropping her head between her knees. “He must be so pissed off at me.”

“To be fair, we didn’t actually check his table. That’s what my bet would be. Seeing as how he isn’t currently beating up Kenny McCormick.”

Wendy kicked at his shin. “I can’t just go up to him with you in front of all his friends! He should be checking his phone.”

“Maybe, and I don’t want to sound like a coward for suggesting this, I don’t go with you? And you go check his table? Because that’s probably where he is, Wendy.”

She rolled her eyes. Obviously she realized by now that Stan was either gone or still inside where he’d always been, but she hadn’t given up the hope that she could get Stan to come talk to her someplace private and quiet, hence sitting in the parking lot while Kenny smoked and texting him every other minute. “I’ll try calling.”

“You hadn’t even tried calling him yet?”

“You’ve been next to me this whole fucking time, McCormick. I think you know what I have and haven’t tried.”

Kenny frowned guiltily down at his boots as Wendy started dialing Stan’s number. People thought it was cute that Wendy had his cell phone number memorized, but really she only knew his because, whenever they got into fights, she would delete him from her address book and would end up staring at the unprogrammed number flashing on her screen when they inevitably made up over text.

_“Hey, it’s Stan… Sike! Stan’s not here right now. You know what to do and when.”_

She noticed Kenny tense up at the beginning of Stan’s recording, but she’d had too many fights with Stan about how immature his answering machine message was to be tricked. “Hey, Stan. It’s Wendy. Check your texts. Call me back.” She paused, her finger poised over the end call button. “Please don’t be mad, okay? You can’t stop being mad if you don’t talk to me. So… you know what to do and when. Bye. Love you.”

“He has one of _those_ answering messages?”

“Fuck off, Kenny. Yours is just your dumb Christian Bale impression.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’ll have you know Christian Bale did record that answering machine message for me as a favor for keeping South Park safe in his name.”

“You start laughing halfway through.” Wendy felt incredibly tired as she gave Kenny her patented humorless stare. “You could have done a second take and re-recorded the message, you know?”

He waved his hand airily, accidentally ashing on her dress in the process. “Ah, fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry! Don’t brush it. Just blow on it.” He paused. “And don’t comment on that. I heard it, too.”

She blew delicately on her skirt, sending the ash skittering off into the wind. “Fuck yourself, Kenny.”

This was the tensest she had ever felt in his presence. God, Kenny’s whole point was that there was no reason to ever be tense around him. He was just welcoming and honest. Even before he and Wendy had become friends, when he was still stoned all the time and laughing at jokes in his own head, he was never stressful to be around. Now Wendy heard herself snap at him whenever he said or did anything. This was, after all, his fault. It may not have been his intent, but it was undeniable that if she had never started helping Kenny, she never would have found herself in this predicament.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shifting the cigarette extender to the hand further away from Wendy and angling his body in that direction. “Won’t happen again.”

He sounded like a child who had just been scolded by his favorite parent or babysitter. Wendy opened her mouth to apologize for snapping at him, but it fell closed at the sound of the gymnasium doors opening. She was on her feet in a second, but Kenny’s gaze met the new arrival before hers could, and she knew without looking that it wasn’t Stan in the parking lot.

“What’s up, dude,” Kenny said blandly.

Kyle surveyed him coldly, and Wendy felt a rush of indignation. He didn’t need to be so unwelcoming as soon as he saw Kenny. He could just be nice and wait for Kenny to fuck up like a normal person would. She supposed it was pretty hypocritical of her to be angry at Kyle after having taken her anger out on Kenny for a solid twenty minutes. That was because Kenny was _her_ friend to take her anger out on, though. She knew he wouldn’t care. She also knew he wouldn’t care if Kyle did it too.

“Congratulations, you two.” She hadn’t expected Rebecca to be the one to break the silence, but Rebecca was probably the one of the four of them who _least_ wanted to crawl in a hole and die right now.

“Thanks, Rebecca.” Wendy smiled at her. She hadn’t been particularly good at fake smiling at Rebecca when she was trashed and happy, and now that she was sobering up and upset, she knew she was doing a really bad job.

Kyle nodded at her. “Yeah, congratulations. I voted for you.” He said it very pointedly as if Wendy didn’t know what he was really saying. _I voted for you and Stan._

“I voted for me, too.” It was a weak attempt at a joke, and Kenny gave a sympathetic chuckle.

“Okay.” Wendy saw him lock eyes with Kenny, and something wordless passed between the two of them. Kenny looked like a deer in headlights that had already been hit by the car. It was a facial expression she’d never seen on him before, and it made her heart hurt. “I’m just going to walk Rebecca home, then. I’ll see you both Monday.” Kyle slid a hand around Rebecca’s waist robotically. “Have a good night.”

“Wait!” Wendy didn’t realize how desperate she sounded as Kyle and Rebecca began to walk past them. “Do you… know where Stan is?”

Kyle looked her over hesitantly. Wendy wanted to punch him for even _looking_ like it was a betrayal of his friendship with Stan to tell his _girlfriend_ where he was. “He’s at our table inside, dude. I don’t think he’s left it.”

Kenny sighed a little. “Told you.”

“Told her what?”

“I told her Stan would be at your table inside.” Kenny took another drag of his cigarette and straightened his spine a little. It was always very obvious when Kenny was using smoking to calm himself down. The kid literally took drags like a vacuum. His cheeks completely hollowed out. She also knew that this rarely helped to actually calm Kenny down unless the problem was actually nicotine withdrawal to begin with. 

Kyle nodded. “Then you should have checked there. If you were looking for him.”

“How is he?” Wendy asked desperately. Kenny groaned and shot her a little look, she assumed warning her she would never get information on Stan from Kyle.

“You should ask him that yourself.”

“Man, give her something to go in there with. Like scale of 1 to 10, how pissed is he?” Kenny’s interruption was not unwelcome, but it made Kyle look angrier than before.

“At which one of you?”

“Wendy, obviously.”

Kyle scrutinized Wendy for a second. “More disgusted than pissed,” he said finally. “Somewhere from a 4 to a 6 depending on what you have set as your 10.”

“Why disgusted?”

Kyle’s smile when he looked at Kenny was not very nice. He just shrugged.

Wendy slipped her phone back into her purse, looking between the two of them cautiously. “I’ve got to find Stan, Ken. You can stay out here if you want,” she added, eyeing his newly lit cigarette.

Kenny nodded at her mutely, and Rebecca raised a hand in an uncaring goodbye. Wendy expected to see Kyle leading her away as soon as Wendy started moving to the gymnasium, but he stayed still, watching Kenny scornfully. Wendy didn’t want to leave the situation like that, but she had to get to Stan _now_ , and she knew Kenny would forgive her.

She tried to tell herself that maybe some good would come of it as she pushed her way back into the crowded dance.

***

Bebe could not believe her two best friends had won Prom King and Queen, one of which being her date, and she still hadn’t seen either of them since the awards were announced. Kenny had been completely right about needing to stay drunk to find Heidi tolerable. No one had let Bebe drink since her outburst at Kyle, and she got progressively more annoying as Bebe got progressively less drunk. She also, for someone who had spent ages complimenting both Kenny and Bebe and Stan and Wendy separately, seemed incredibly excited by Kenny and Wendy’s victory. Bebe felt a little betrayed.

She should have just gone to the dance with Token. At least then she wouldn’t have an annoying third wheel to her just trying to chill with her buddy. Token seemed to be on the same page about this, and neither of them looked particularly disappointed when Heidi started making out with Clyde in the middle of the dance floor.

“That dweeb took his cousin,” Token muttered bitterly. Bebe got the impression that Token was acting jealous because it was his duty as her date rather than due to any interest in Heidi herself. Token always did shit like that. It was like he polled teenagers to see what the most socially accepted response to something was then made himself feel that way.

Bebe shrugged. “Wanna go get stoned in your car while we wait for Kenny?” She’d been planning on asking that question for about thirty minutes now.

“I said no smoking in my car.”

“We can roll the windows down.”

“We would obviously roll the windows down. That’s still not enough.”

“We can roll the sun roof down?”

Token rolled his eyes. “Just because it’s prom. Kind of.”

Bebe grinned at him. “That’s what I thought. Fucking rich bitch.”

She bumped her shoulder against his warmly as they started to walk out towards the parking lot. Token had fished out smokes for the two of them before they reached the door, and Bebe’s grin widened in gratitude. Token had never gotten addicted the way Bebe and Kenny had. They had much more addictive personalities in general. He did, however, have exponentially more money than Bebe and Kenny had and therefore was usually stocked with cigarettes while Kenny would complain about rationing his whenever Bebe tried to bum. Bebe wasn’t even sure if Token liked smoking as much as it made him feel cool to be able to bum to anyone who wanted a cigarette.

She had just started to fish around for a lighter in her purse when Token’s hand clamped on her shoulder, dragging her back a few feet from the exit.

Bebe stumbled over her own feet, thankful she still kept her heels clutched in her hands. “What the _fuck_ , dude?”

Token looked equally startled even though his feet had remained firmly planted on the ground. “Sorry, Bebz. Kenny’s out there, and I was too surprised to use my words.”

“Why is Kenny surprising?”

Token looked at her quizzically. He and Kenny might have made a lot of jokes about how funny Bebe looked when she walked down the street flanked by two boys easily clearing six feet, but Token must not have connected that Bebe’s proud 5’2” was barely enough to see through the windows on the gymnasium doors when she stood on her tiptoes. “Not surprising as much as I don’t think he wants us to walk out there right now.” He peered through the window curiously. “Oh, wait. I misjudged.”

She was getting really fucking annoyed. “Misjudged what, dude? Why wouldn’t he want us to walk out right now?”

“Ah.” Token was rapidly becoming more flustered. “I thought he was out there with a girl, but…”

Bebe’s eyes lit up. She knew what that awkwardness meant. “Is he out there with Kyle?” she blurted out eagerly.

Token nodded.

“And they’re, like, yeah?” She wasn’t sure what exactly she was asking, but she knew Token would know if he’d seen it.

He shook his head. “Ah, no. I misjudged that, too. Well, Kenny might have also. I think they’re just, ah… open the door a little bit with your foot, okay? I need audio.”

Bebe twisted the handle delicately, praying to every god she knew the name of that the door would not squeak while Kyle and Kenny were making out.

Her wish came true double that night. She not only managed to get her hand in the door without making it squeak but also quickly realized what Token had meant when he said he had misjudged what was happening.

_“Do you know how Cartman it is to hook up with my best friend’s girlfriend just to get back at me? I honestly thought people were fucking with me when they said they dated, but maybe you guys are just her type.”_

_“You really think this is about you. Holy shit.”_

_“Is it not? I didn’t want to sound like a dick, but you’re pretty clearly obsessed with me.”_

_“Good job not sounding like a dick there, man.”_

_“You look like I’m taking a shit on your mom’s face every time I’m around you.”_

_“Great imagery.”_

_“Stop defaulting to jokes. Just man up and admit why you did it so Stan can get over her.”_

_“I didn’t do anything to Wendy. And they’re not going to break up.”_

_“They’re going to break up. Be realistic, dude. He’s not going to want her after you’ve been there.”_

_“I didn’t fuck Wendy!”_

Bebe slipped her hand out of the door quickly, hoping the boys were too wrapped up in their conversation to hear the quiet thud. “Eavesdropping isn’t fun when it’s like that,” she muttered weakly.

Token’s hands were balled into fists. “Should I go kick his ass? I’ll kick his ass.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, dude, we weren’t here.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I should kick his ass.”

“I’ll kick _your_ ass if you let Kenny know we heard any of that.” Bebe pointed a cautionary finger into Token’s face, and he nodded irritably. Her voice was shaking a little as she pulled her phone out of her purse, but she wasn’t really in the mood to bother steadying it. “I’ll text him and Wendy, and we can all go home and smoke, and you can use some of your rich people magic to repress any memory of that conversation.”

She could feel herself shaking with anger and nerves as she typed, deleted and retyped her texts multiple times. A significant portion of her, the part that was sober and defensive of Kenny’s dignity, didn’t think it was best to tell Wendy what she had heard, but Bebe wanted Wendy to understand how serious the conversation was without being forced to lie creatively. Maybe it would be easiest to just send a recording of their audio through the door. Finally, Bebe got too annoyed to draft any more text messages and just sent what she had.

**wendy. dude. wendy. kyle said k hued w u 2 get back @ him bc k’s obsessed w him. gonna try to get him stoned retard level after this if u wanna join. good luck w boyfriend.**

“Did you text Kenny?” Bebe glanced down to notice Token had slid all the way down the door and was now sitting on the ground. He looked like he had heard much more than he ever wanted to hear, and he had no idea what to do with that knowledge. Bebe was the friend who dealt with Kenny’s feelings, and even she was rarely called upon to do that. Kenny was a chiller. They all were. He was definitely not the kind of boy to deal with strong emotion in a healthy way.

She sighed and shook her head. Not willing to deal with the stress of overanalyzing her text, she sent Kenny the message she had sent him a million times in the past. He didn’t need to know she had heard anything for her to be able to give all the help she could give.

**u wanna get high?**

**how come no towel emoji w iPhone update???**

***

It had not gone unnoticed to Stan that Kenny and Wendy both immediately disappeared after finishing their dance. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone at the table. Kyle had thought they should just leave, but, after twenty minutes of urging, he got fed up and left with only Rebecca. David had taken over friendship duties at that point, which mostly consisted of making sure the drink in Stan’s hand was always full.

“Oh, look, it only took half an hour,” a teammate muttered judgmentally as Stan looked up to find Wendy winding her way through the mass of students who had finally moved to the dance floor.

“Hi, Stan.” Wendy never sounded nervous. Even when Stan knew she was struggling to keep herself from shaking, she always sounded so confident. It was one of those things about her that he admired and detested. Everything would be so much easier if Wendy were as transparent with her emotions as every other girl in the Junior class.

Maybe next time, instead of dating someone because she’s different and special, he would try going for someone who would make it even a little easy for him. Not easy in the sense of casual sex. He just wished Wendy would make sense. Plus, all the girls who were down for casual sex had probably already had it with Kenny.

“Hey.”

She shifted her weight awkwardly. “Do you wanna go talk somewhere?”

Stan sighed. “Not exactly.”

After a pause, she asked, “could we anyway?”

“Where’s Kenny?”

“I don’t know. Outside, somewhere.”

“Where do you want to talk?” he asked finally, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair and standing up.

A look of huge relief spread over Wendy’s face, and she gestured with her head for him to follow her out of the gymnasium into the hallways of the school.

They were silent for a few minutes once they finally got alone. She avoided making eye contact, and he avoided bringing up the looks that people at the dance had shot him when they saw him with Wendy. She was _his_ motherfucking girlfriend. He didn’t know how Kenny had done this, but Stan was going to make him pay. He didn’t know if “this” meant sleeping with his girlfriend or just stuffing the ballot box so he won Prom King with her, but he’d regret it either way.

“So, Stan, this was a big mistake,” Wendy said finally.

“What was?” His voice sounded hollow. He already knew what the mistake Wendy was referring to was. He was the mistake. They were. That, or she really had cheated on him.

She was practically devouring her bottom lip. It was always kind of a charming nervous tic, but now it looked like she had given herself a hickey on her lip and chin. “I mean the prom thing. Kenny and I had no idea that it was going to happen like that. Kenny even voted for you. He told me.”

“Because… why? You just wanted to keep it a secret for longer?”

“No! I mean, Kenny and I aren’t anything. We’re friends. We didn’t realize people were misinterpreting it like that.”

Stan nodded slowly. “Right. Yeah. How many other male friends do you spend all your free periods and afternoons with alone in the library?”

“Well, logically, if I’m spending all my free periods alone with someone, there can only be one… fuck, Stan, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound sarcastic. Force of habit. I mean, you don’t have anything to worry about from anyone.”

“It’s pretty Kenny-esque to be making jokes right now, Wendy.”

“I promise you, Stan, Kenny and I are nothing like that. You have to trust me on this one.”

Stan stared at her, and he could feel her forcing herself to maintain eye contact the whole time. Why couldn’t she be the person to flinch first for once? She probably thought eye contact made her seem more honest. It just made Stan more sure that if something did ever happen between Wendy and another boy, she would be able to hide it from him. She knew that she could make him believe anything. “Okay. So stop hanging out with him.”

Wendy recoiled. “I didn’t realize we did ultimatums.”

“We didn’t. Until now.” Stan could feel his jaw clenching uncomfortably. “I think it’s more than fair given the circumstances.”

“There are no circumstances! I didn’t cheat on you!”

“So it shouldn’t be that hard to stop hanging out with him?”

“What if I told you to stop hanging out with Kyle or David?”

Stan shrugged. “In that scenario, am I having sex with Kyle or David? Because if so, I’d probably be thanking you for talking to me at all.”

“Okay, and in _this_ scenario, I’m not having sex with Kenny. So then how would you react?”

“Wendy, it shouldn’t be that hard. You have lots of other friends. You can still see him at school.”

“You can’t set rules for me.” Her voice was shaking now. She sounded livid. Stan noticed her clutch vibrate with an influx of text messages, but she seemed too angry to make any moves towards her phone right now. He was a little grateful about that, actually.

He threw his hands up. “It’s not rules. It’s a choice. I and everyone else in this school think you’re having sex with Kenny McCormick. You can stop hanging out with said McCormick, and everything will be fine. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to be uncomfortable with your friendship.”

“Our friendship is harmless!”

“Is it really harmless if you’d choose it over your relationship, though?”

Wendy stomped her foot. “It’s not like that. I _promised_ him-.”

“What did you promise him? Why won’t you even tell me what you guys do when you hang out together? Or what you two have in common? I was his friend for a really long time, Wendy. If you’d wanted to hang out with him at the time, you could have.”

“I told you we study! And you’re going back to acting like you have the right to grant me permission to do things.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kenny study with a girl _even_ to get into her pants.”

“You don’t know Kenny better than me just because you were his friend when he was younger.”

“I do, though. I do know him better than you.”

Wendy actually growled. Stan didn’t think he had ever heard that noise come out of her before. It was a lot more frightening than he would have guessed. If he had heard about someone growling during a fight, he’d probably make fun of the person. “You know him in the same fucked up way you know Kyle where you act like you can forget about any emotional development he’s gone through since you last saw him. The only difference is that Kenny grew up, and Kyle just became an asshole.”

“Kyle’s not an asshole.”

“He is to Kenny!”

“Are you really fucking defending Kenny right now? Is that really what you want to be doing with this conversation?” Stan felt like his body was on fire, and before he knew what was happening, his fist had slammed into the wall near Wendy’s face. She cringed, fear and surprise quickly being replaced by anger. “Fuck, Wen, I didn’t mean to do that.”

She shook her head. This was the first time Stan had ever seen her too angry to do anything but stutter out half-formed responses.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Stan was stuttering too now.

Wendy gave him a look that made him feel like he’d dry up into dust and blow away in front of her, but then she just closed her mouth and turned to look at her phone instead. Stan tried to remind himself that she was doing this as a power play, but he was still really fucking angry. Who the fuck would look at their phone in the middle of a conversation like this?

Wendy paled. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“I said “I have to go”. My friend needs me.”

“Which friend?”

Wendy looked at him very seriously. “Kenny.”

Stan scoffed. “Are you _fucking_ serious? Is any of this fucking serious?”

“Yeah, because your _childhood_ friend was an asshole to _my_ friend. So I have to fucking go.”

“This is more important to you than saving our relationship right now?”

Wendy shoved her phone back in her purse. “At this point, a lot of things are more important to me than saving our relationship.”

***

“Heyyy, buddyyyy,” Token let the words fall off his tongue slowly in a desperately unconvincing attempt at a casual voice. “I put on your favorite!”

Kenny slid into the backseat of his car, and Bebe had a joint shoved in his face before he even had time to say hello. He looked suspicious for a second, then uncomfortable, then he accepted the joint and sank back into his usual careless disposition. “Who told you fun. was my favorite band?”

“It’s actually just on the radio.” Token gulped. “Is fun. your favorite band? I’ll… I’ll still be your friend if they are. It’s okay.”

“No!” Kenny cried indignantly. “Just this song,” he added as a side note.

“We Are Young isn’t even Fun’s best song.” Bebe snorted. “That’s embarrassing for you, Kenny.”

Token watched through the rearview mirror as Kenny looked at the joint hesitantly for a few seconds then took a resigned hit. “fun.” he corrected Bebe as if he could hear the grammar in her speech. He took another hit, sinking into a coughing fit on the exhale.

“You won’t cough as much if you breathe out slower,” Token muttered.

Kenny looked stunned. “I know how to smoke!”

“Don’t make fun of the baby, Token. Gotta cough to get off.” Bebe crawled clumsily into the backseat next to Kenny, tugging off his top hat and scratching his hair like a beloved pet dog. “Don’t worry, lil guy. No one’s ever died from weed.”

Kenny pushed at her hand weakly. “It’s only been a month since I’ve smoked. You’re having too much fun with this experience thing.”

He tried to hand the joint off to Token, but Token shook his head. “Nah, you keep it for awhile. Bebe and I have already been smoking.”

“For the past month,” she added with a small smirk.

Kenny flipped Bebe off but grinned.

Token had to admit, it was pretty adorable watching Kenny get high again. His tolerance used to be so much higher than the rest of theirs, and now he looked like it was his first time smoking. He was pink-eyed and smiley after only a few hits, but Token and Bebe still refused to take the joint from him.

Bebe looked like she might cry if Kenny stopped smoking anytime soon, but she was trying valiantly to hide it. Token knew where she was coming from. It felt like this was all they could do to help him without opening up the Pandora’s box that was talking about feelings. Token was confident that he knew everyone in the car well enough to be sure none of them wanted that. Kenny was not a sad girl who was going to spend prom night crying about a boy in a bathroom.

Token hadn’t realized that Kenny was the type of person to cry about boys at all, but that was cool. That was okay. It didn’t have to change his opinion of Kenny. He’d known that Kenny had hooked up with boys before – he just didn’t realize that he could have such strong feelings for one. Kenny didn’t have strong feelings for anyone. Token always assumed he just really liked pussy.

Now he knew that Kenny really liked pussy and Kyle.

Honestly, if Kenny were going to swing that way, Token would have told him he could do better, but, from the way Bebe described the two of them plus the short interaction he witnessed, he didn’t think Kenny wanted to do any better.

He was hotter than Kyle though, right? And cooler? Much more Kenny’s type.

Jesus, how narcissistic was he that he was jealous Kenny didn’t have a gay awakening for him instead? Token wouldn’t even want that.

Token was glad that the front seat was relatively isolated by physical distance and deafening radio so that he could kick around some thoughts about his friend’s sexuality while Kenny and Bebe passed the joint back and forth and joked about the different songs that were coming on. It was, Token had to admit, a really horrible radio station. He could easily change it, but it was the kind of horrible that everyone secretly enjoyed.

Token felt someone prodding at his shoulder, and he turned around to accept the joint from Kenny. “Man, since when have we been allowed to smoke in your car?”

“Since about an hour ago. And until the end of the night.” Token took a long hit. “Then never again, motherfuckers.”

“How did you guys pregame and drive yourselves to prom? Did you drink and drive, Token?” Bebe demanded indignantly, although she raised no concerns about Token smoking before driving them home. Bebe shared Token’s view that a solid high had become their baseline, and they should be able to operate at it just as well as any sober person. It was very untrue, but Token hadn’t killed anyone yet. Besides Kenny a few times apparently, but that didn’t count. Everyone kills Kenny at some point.

“I drank then drove – don’t worry.”

“Ayy, good one.” Kenny snickered. “But seriously don’t do that. You could kill people.”

“Sorry, mom.”

The car door opened again, and an incredibly riled up Wendy scooted into the seat next to Token. She breathed in and out slowly for a few seconds as she struggled to calm down. “What’s up, guys?”

Bebe offered the joint to her in response, but Wendy shook her head. “Kenny, are you smoking?”

He looked down guiltily, but Bebe intervened. “It’s fucking semiformal, Wendy. Let him celebrate.” She kissed his forehead affectionately. “Kenny’s been good as shit lately.”

Wendy nodded and smiled at Kenny. “I agree.”

Kenny looked unimaginably relieved as he made eye contact with an approving Wendy. He sighed and nestled his head into Bebe’s neck, his own chest rising and falling as Bebe inhaled and exhaled the smoke.

“Yo, guys, where am I headed?” Token asked as he pulled out of the parking spot.

Wendy was already yawning. “If you could drop me at home first, that’d be great.”

“Word, can you plug that address into my GPS?” Token passed her his phone, and she punched in her address, setting the phone down between them as google maps began calculating the fastest route.

“What’s this radio station? Like _here comes the pop song you thought you’d forgotten_?” Wendy asked after a pause, and Token felt bad for her that she didn’t have copious amounts of weed to make the music sound better.

“Mm, I love this song,” Bebe murmured. “I’d totally forgotten about it.”

“What is it?” Token looked back over his shoulder, feeling something drop in his gut as he focused on the backseat.

Kenny still had his face buried in Bebe’s neck, but the two of them had been having a whispered conversation. Every time Kenny responded, it was like each word was a small kiss against her collarbone. Bebe was giggly and pink with one hand still stroking Kenny’s hair and the other intertwined with his own fingers. His free hand was tracing patterns on her thigh through her sheer dress.

Token clenched his jaw. It would be fine. They had done this before, and they both happened to get really touchy-feely when they got stoned. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that a month ago, he would have been ecstatic this was happening, and now he kind of felt like Kenny was using his best friend.

Of course that was bullshit. She was Kenny’s best friend, too.

He made brief eye contact with Wendy, the stony look on her face suggesting she felt the same way about Kenny’s motives.

“Bebe, he asked you a question,” Kenny was whispering, running his nose up and down Bebe’s neck lightly.

“Hm?” She looked at Token like she was in a daze.

“Oh.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I, uh, didn’t know what song it was.”

“Oh.” She giggled. “I don’t actually know the name of it, but you totally know it. _I know I can treat you better than he can, and any girl like you deserves a gentleman._ ” She sang along weakly with the chorus, distracted as Kenny’s fingers moved higher up on her thigh. “You definitely know it,” she repeated more firmly.

“I’d put down some money on the title of this song being Treat You Better,” Kenny smirked.

“That would make sense.”

They lapsed back into their whispered conversation, with Token only able to make out hushed voices and giggles. Wendy drummed her fingers on the dashboard, staring deliberately out the front window until she could finally yelp “this is my house!” just as google maps announced “your destination is on your left”.

Bebe and Kenny actually did look away from each other long enough to give Wendy nice goodbyes. Kenny disentangled himself to kiss her on the cheek and promise he’d text or call her tomorrow, and she nodded understandingly.

Token didn’t move the car as they sat in her driveway and watched her disappear through her front door. He was dreading the direction that he knew he’d be given next. It felt like he was some kind of accessory to this _thing_ Kenny and Bebe were doing simply by giving them weed and driving them there, and that felt dirty. He knew he was being a bad friend. He was being a bad friend either by not supporting it or by not stopping it, but somehow Token was fucking up.

Still, he just winced and started the car as he heard Kenny ask, “hey, can you just take us to my house next? I think we’re pretty done for the night.”


	11. Misguided Fantasy

“Y’know, I realized something the other day.”

“Hm?”

“If my life were a porno, I’d totally not watch it.”

“Ouch.”

“That’s supposed to be the human dream, right? Live the porn you love or whatever?”

“This may be the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me after sex.”

“Firstly, Kenny, we both know that’s not true because Red told everyone you raped her in ninth grade.”

“I didn’t! She’s fucking insane!”

“She was struggling with her sexuality, dude. Give her a break.”

“I struggled with my sexuality, and no one had to lose all their friends or go to court!”

“Did you struggle? Anyway, _secondly_ , Kenny, I mean, like, I’ve been watching this really dark shit with, like, slaves and stuff like that.”

“Woah. Cool.”

“But, then I had to think like, what if I were abducted? Like if some dude just randomly had me in a dungeon and told me to call him “Master”, obviously I wouldn’t put up any struggle at all. He could literally kill me. That’s not entertaining porn.”

“This is a really insightful glimpse into your sexual habits, Bebe, but am I supposed to be surprised? I’ve heard you scream “just rape me!” at four different people you thought were homeless guys trying to kill you in my neighborhood.”

“I’m really glad your dad didn’t take me seriously.”

“He did take your money.”

“By that point, I just really wanted us to pretend the whole situation didn’t happen.”

“Out of curiosity, why don’t you lead with “take my wallet!” and then maybe use rape as a negotiation factor if he still wants to kill you?”

“My fake ID is in there.”

Kenny snorted loudly and rolled over onto his side to observe Bebe. He wouldn’t deny – she looked fucking hot in the mornings. Usually when he thought about Bebe, he’d tend to use phrases like “absolutely beautiful”, but Kenny wasn’t used to seeing her with sleepy eyes and tangled hair. It was probably because those were tangles that _he_ put there, and he felt a strange amount of satisfaction knowing that.

This shouldn’t feel so weird. They had slept together before. That had been while they were both rolling for the first time in their lives though, and they had kept it strictly to that period. The next morning, they had just gone back to hanging out. It was like there’d been a mutual agreement that sex was fun as hell on molly, and they were helping each other have that fun.

There hadn’t been a drug to blame it on this time. Well, Kenny barely viewed weed as a drug, but it had been about a month and a half since he’d smoked. He’d been hit a lot harder than he expected. They also hadn’t stopped in the morning, and that was what really freaked Kenny out. Morning sex was always kind of the dream, wasn’t it? Harder to get than expected without a relationship or steady hookup.

It hadn’t even been weird at the time. It had felt so natural. It was basically hanging out with her except he got to put his dick in something at the same time; in theory, that sounded like an ideal situation. Bebe was hot, and she didn’t take things too seriously. Kenny had even obliged stopping and sitting there for ten minutes after she tried to call him “daddy” then had to stop collect herself from hysterical laughter. He had instituted a “no dirty talk” rule after that. It felt weird and foreign with his best friend, and it was pretty frustrating listening to Bebe laugh every time she tried.

He was probably just stressing about vibes, but he couldn’t get out of his head when he had slumped back on Bebe after taking an aggressively large bong rip of tobacco and asked her why they couldn’t do this everyday. She’d scratched his head affectionately and murmured something like “because it would probably break my heart” while his vision went temporarily black.

After that, nothing weird happened. He had no reason to believe anything bad was going to come of this. Bebe looked happy. Honestly, she looked kind of radiant. God, he was just getting in his fucking head. This wasn’t something that he had to deal with. Bebe wouldn’t want anything more. He knew her. She probably had sex more than he did (especially since he’d gone sober-ish), and she wasn’t the type of girl who idealized falling in love with her overlooked best friend. She idealized falling in love with a rich, mature guy who found her immaturity charming and was willing to provide for her with complete security. If anything, she should probably be in love with Token. He fit all that criteria besides “mature”.

If he were going to worry about fucking over a girl, he knew who it would be. He knew even before Bebe checked her buzzing phone and reported with a blank expression “Stan and Wendy broke up”.

He didn’t bat an eyelash as she started digging through his clothing. She hadn’t liked that his jeans had fit her when she first found out, but she recognized the utility of it. He was pretty embarrassed about his waist size. It wasn’t anything for a girl to be embarrassed about, definitely. “Are you going over there?”

She nodded grimly.

“When did it happen?”

She shrugged. “Sometime in between dropping her off at her house last night and just now?”

He buried his face in the pillow and groaned. “Do you need a ride to her house?”

“Yeah.”

He heaved a sigh and rolled out of the bed to tug on a pair of jeans. At least now there was no question of what Bebe would have on her mind. That was the only victory there was to be found. He checked his phone for a similar message from Wendy, but none came. He hadn’t really expected it to.

They got dressed in silence, and Bebe was leaning against his doorway with a cigarette between her lips by the time he’d tugged on his second boot. He accepted one wordlessly and tugged on his parka.

“They were doing really well,” Bebe said finally as they trudged through the snow.

“Stan and Wendy?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if she talked to you about that stuff, but it was working out so well. I had a million misgivings, and he was proving me wrong every time.”

Kenny nodded tersely. “Yeah. He doesn’t suck.”

She looked a little irritated. “He doesn’t just “not suck”, Kenny. Stan’s a great dude. At least, he’s been a great boyfriend. He’s passionate about shit like her, and he actually made her a priority this time. Probably more so than she made him.” Bebe shot him a glare as she climbed inside his car that made it abundantly obvious she was blaming him for Wendy’s loss. That was fair. He was blaming himself too.

“Man, I remember. I loved the kid.”

“Yeah, but you loved Kyle too, and he grew up into an asshole. I’m just informing you that Stan didn’t. At least, not until just now, but I honestly don’t really blame him.”

He stared silently ahead at the road. His judgment on Stan might have been a little skewed because he really just only seemed jealous and rude around Kenny, but it felt like Bebe was insinuating he hadn’t supported the relationship. That part was unfair. Stan was good for the right people, and that did include Wendy. Hell, Kenny could admit that he was good for and to most people.

“I’m not trying to blame you,” she informed him softly. “I just need to know that you know what Wendy gave up for your misguided fantasy.”

“I do.” He glanced over at her, and she gave him a strangely serious look. She expected something out of him, he realized after a moment of silence.

It wasn’t that she wanted him to have made Wendy’s work worth something. She wanted him to give up. Or, at least, she wanted him to change his motivation. Anything he did after this point, he had to be doing it for Wendy. She was the one who had put enough faith in him to sacrifice. She had shown him tangible respect unlike his _misguided fantasy_.

He could give something up for Wendy. Bebe knew he could, and when he pulled up at the curb outside Wendy’s house, she gave him another weird look and asked if he’d be going back home after this. He shook his head, and Bebe looked noticeably relieved.

“Don’t feel like a dick, Kenny,” she breathed as she slipped out of the car.

Kenny groaned audibly as he pulled away from the curb. He knew what he had to do for Wendy. Bebe may or may not have intended this, but he drove slowly through South Park’s residential neighborhood looking for a blue house he hadn’t been to in years. He’d been too young to drive himself last time he came here, Kenny supposed, and it didn’t help that most houses in South Park looked exactly the same, but he eventually found himself pulled up in front of the Marsh residence.

This could be overkill. It could make everything worse. Kenny did not under any circumstances have to go inside, and he sat behind the wheel for a second as if daring himself to drive away. Instead, he unbuckled his seatbelt with another groan and strode up to the door.

Randy Marsh opened the door, and Kenny smiled shyly. He had the same youthful exuberance he’d had when they were younger even if his hair had gotten grayer and his beer belly more pronounced. The way he beamed at Kenny made him feel certain that Stan did not confide in his dad as much as he used to. “Kenny! It’s been so long! I wondered if you and Stan were even friends anymore.”

His smile weakened. “Uh, yeah, I guess I just never made it by here recently.”

“Are you guys getting the gang back together now that your buddy Kyle’s back? Do you still hang out with the fat kid?”

Kenny laughed, rubbing his arm uncomfortably. “I think Stan has a gang, Mr. Marsh, and it definitely does not include Eric Cartman. Is he here now by any chance?”

“Yeah, he’s up in his room. Maybe you can get him to _turn that mopey music down_ ,” Randy raised his voice pointedly and directed a glare up the stairs. “It’s been nonstop all morning.”

“I’ll try my best,” Kenny said hurriedly, taking a step towards the stairs.

Randy waved him off and returned to his spot at the couch as Kenny practically sprinted up the stairs. He could hear the sounds of Kurt Cobain wailing easily from the stairs, and it only grew louder as he approached what he remembered to be Stan’s bedroom. He knocked on it quietly.

“Fuck off, dad, I said I wasn’t hungry,” a dull voice replied over the music.

“It’s not your dad,” Kenny called back.

His spine prickled as the door flew open and Stan stood in front of him, managing to look livid even through his bloodshot, sleepless eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in your room?”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to you.”

Stan glared at him but took a step back so Kenny could enter. He shut the door behind him, and Kenny got the horrible feeling he was caged in somewhere he didn’t want to be. “I always listen to Nirvana when I’m mad too,” he muttered in a weak attempt at small talk, nodding at the speakers.

“That’s because we always used to listen to Nirvana and throw glass bottles off your building when Kyle got too angry at Cartman,” he grunted expressionlessly.

Oh. That was why Kenny did that. He’d forgotten about that particular tradition. “I found a really sick live version of “Rape Me”. I like when Kurt Cobain talks at the beginning. _This song is about hairy, sweaty, macho redneck men… who rape._ ” He mimicked in a gravelly impression that he’d spent weeks perfecting in order to be Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love with Bebe for Halloween last year. It was the only part of the costume he’d put any effort into. Otherwise, he and Bebe just didn’t shower for a week and rubbed some dirt in his hair on the way to the party.

“Is this why you came by, Kenny?”

He shifted awkwardly as “Polly” started to creep out of Stan’s speakers. “No, dude, I heard about what happened.”

“Of course you did. There _are_ hard feelings so don’t pull that shit.”

Kenny sighed. “Can you just, like, not be angry for a few minutes? I can’t talk while you’re glaring at me like that.”

“Sure, dude. Wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.” Stan glared at him pointedly.

Kenny stared down at his shoes. “What did Wendy say we were doing together?”

“She said you study.” He could hear the malice and disbelief in Stan’s voice without looking up.

“Did she tell you why we study together?”

“I assumed that’s where the fucking part entered the picture.”

Kenny groaned. “No, dude, that’s wrong. She should have told you the truth. Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Wendy’s been helping me with everything, dude. We study together, and she made me quit dealing and doing drugs, and she’s helping me find a real job.”

“I’m glad you’re being such a good little project, man.”

“It’s not because I’m trying to get or have been in Wendy’s pants, Stan! It’s because I felt shitty about my life, and Bebe asked her to help. She just didn’t want to embarrass me by telling you, I guess.”

“You really didn’t _look_ like you felt shitty about your life.”

Kenny raised his gaze to meet Stan’s narrowed eyes. It was time for the kicker. He knew he’d have to do it. “That’s because I didn’t really feel shitty about it. Until, uh, Kyle came back.”

Stan didn’t look convinced, but he did look interested. That was enough for now. “That’s a lot of effort to put into being someone’s friend again. I barely believed you were doing it to get into Wendy’s pants.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I might not be putting the effort in to be his friend again.”

Stan raised an eyebrow, and for a second Kenny thought he was going to laugh. “Are you trying to get into _Kyle’s_ pants?”

“You could, like, not phrase it that way.”

Stan roared with laughter, and Kenny stared at him completely deadpan until he watched the reality of the situation set in on Stan’s face. “Shit, dude, I didn’t realize you were gay.”

“I’m not gay.”

His eyebrows furrowed together in deep thought. “So, _are_ you fucking Wendy?”

“No.”

Stan stared at Kenny like he was waiting for Kenny to start laughing and rubbing his new relationship with Wendy in his face, but Kenny just stared back grimly. “Why wouldn’t she just tell me the truth?”

“My guess would be that she didn’t want to embarrass me in front of Kyle’s best friend?”

Stan rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have fucking told him. She knows that. He doesn’t need that stick any further up his ass than it already is.”

“Was that homophobic or just poorly phrased?”

“Poorly phrased. Jesus.”

Kenny grinned a little. “So she didn’t cheat on you,” he reminded gently.

Stan looked a little broken. “She broke up with me, dude. _Fuck_. She probably wouldn’t have if I hadn’t gotten so angry, but I can’t just fucking take it back. I thought she was just being a bitch, but I actually didn’t trust her. _Fucking fuck_.”

Kenny hadn’t expected that development. “You can’t, like, call her and apologize?”

“The only thing that’s changed is that she’s been proven right!” Stan buried his head in his hands. “Fuck, dude, why didn’t you just let her tell me?”

“I assumed she would if it came down to it!” Kenny didn’t want to point out it was a little ironic that they had broken up because Stan thought she was cheating because Wendy was actually excessively loyal. Stan would probably realize that himself eventually. “Can I help?”

Stan pulled his hands away and frowned. “What else could you do?”

He shrugged. “I’ll do whatever you think is best, man. I can talk to her, though.”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, she’ll want me to talk to her myself.”

Kenny nodded the affirmative.

“God dammit, dude.”

He nodded again. “I can’t really put into words how sorry I am. I just, um, my bad?”

Stan looked at him darkly. “I’ll decide how I feel about you after I talk to Wendy.”

Kenny stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m not doing this to assuage my guilt. I’m doing this to undo whatever I did to you and Wendy.” That was false. He was trying to assuage his guilt, but the only way to do that would be to get everything back to the way it was before Kenny had fucked it up.

“I hope it works.”

“Same,” Kenny breathed out enthusiastically.

They met eyes for a second before Stan shrugged despondently. “You can go, man. I’ll find you at school if I need to talk to you.”

Kenny nodded, his body turning to the door immediately as if it’d been waiting for permission to leave. He turned to say bye but paused when he saw Stan studying him with a weird expression on his face.

“Kyle, dude? Really?”

Kenny snorted bitterly. “I was waiting for that question.”

“I had a hard time believing you were doing this for Wendy, and she’s a hot girl.” Stan smirked a little. “It just seems unlike you.”

“I’m very aware.”

“Are you even going to ask me if he’s gay or not?”

“Why would I do that? I’m not gay.”

Stan snorted. “You and Kyle are very different. I feel like you should have guessed that. Even as kids, man, _you_ gave a dude a blowjob for ten dollars, and _Kyle_ rode a bus to New York to kill the Queer Eye guys for trying to make him metrosexual.”

“Your memory is amazing.”

“That’s what football unannounced drug testing does to you.” Stan actually grinned, and Kenny felt his heart lighten considerably. He’d been trying to assuage his own guilt more than he was willing to admit. “It seems like a big plan to launch into without knowing for sure, though.”

“He kissed me once while he was drunk,” Kenny admitted reluctantly.

Stan looked startled for a second, then he smiled again. “Clyde does shit like that too, though. Even I’ve kissed Clyde.”

“Kyle’s not like me, but he’s definitely not like Clyde, either. Give him some credit.”

He made a face like he agreed with Kenny. “This just seems like a big gamble.”

“I don’t pump best friends for information, dude. I’m smarter than that.” Kenny rested his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll find out for myself. Or maybe I won’t. Deal with your own shit now.”

“Bye, Kenny.” Kenny opened the door, and Stan cleared his throat a little. “I am sorry, by the way. I still don’t think I was misguided for assuming those things about you, but I was wrong anyway.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Kenny leaned his weight against the doorpost, desperately ready to be alone in his car. “I’d have assumed those things about me, too.”

“I know I don’t need to,” Stan said bluntly. “You’re not my enemy, though.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow. “I’m not?”

Stan shrugged. “Something about you was good enough to get Wendy’s loyalty, and I trust her judge of character more than I trust my own at this point. You’re just an old friend turned into tolerable acquaintance, okay? Tolerated, at least.”

Kenny managed a smile. Stan’s honesty was always refreshing. It made Kenny feel even worse to have kept something from him. As his anger melted away, Kenny began to appreciate better how trustworthy he’d always been. “Good luck, dude. Let me know if I can do anything.”

***

School was as shitty as Bebe had anticipated it being. Kenny had basically become Tweek; every time someone cleared his or her throat, he jumped out of his seat. Wendy had not calmed down, but she managed to keep her anger away from Stan and Kenny by directing all of it at Bebe. Token seemed aware that he was out of the loop, and Bebe sensed something worryingly close to anger directed at Kenny. Stan and Kyle had not made an appearance in her life, but they rarely did.

It wasn’t even just socially. The end of the weekend meant it was time to get exams back, and it was exactly what Bebe had been expecting. She didn’t get stressed by receiving her grades. She knew they’d be bad. She just got progressively sadder as the day went on, and Wendy and Kenny both had enough stress to make up for her lack thereof.

She frowned slightly as she approached her usual cafeteria table. Kenny was noticeably absent, and Wendy and Token sat there calmly like it was always just the two of them. Token was eating in silence, and Wendy poured over the graded papers in front of her. “How are exams going, Wendy?”

“Good,” she murmured vaguely.

“What’ve you gotten back so far?” Bebe jerked her chin out at the paper to ask what Wendy was currently reviewing.

She set the papers down hurriedly and recited “Calculus, Latin, English and Biology” with a slight sigh. “These ones aren’t mine, though.” Bebe craned her neck over the table, but Wendy moved her arm to cover the paper. “Kenny left his exams in my locker,” she explained sullenly.

“I didn’t realize you guys had talked yet.”

“We haven’t.” Wendy sighed again and pushed the papers towards Bebe with some reluctance. “You can look if you want.”

“You didn’t offer to let me look,” Token growled into his sandwich.

“Did you ask?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t let me.”

She frowned at him. “Ask next time if you want to see.”

Bebe flipped through the pages with some fascination. The first exam, one for a lower-level Calculus class, had a 92 on top in red and a neon orange Post It stuck to it that read _thank you._ She didn’t bother looking through the actual exam. All math was nonsense to her. The next, Spanish, was similarly incomprehensible save a red 89 at the top of the front page. She did bother to skim the next two exams. He had gotten a 95 on English, a grade practically unheard of to either Kenny or Bebe, and had written his essay about feminism in Shakespearean plays, a favorite rant of Wendy.  The fourth exam was for Art History. He’d gotten an 87, his worst grade so far, but Bebe hid a loud snort as she saw the question he had lost the majority of his points on.

“Are you looking at the “How is art destroying society?” question?” Wendy asked understandingly.

Bebe giggled in response, and Wendy smiled a little. She handed the exam to Token in an effort to keep him in the loop. Kenny had drawn a big bubble A R T. The bubble A was ripping a plane down from the sky, the R tearing the top half off a skyscraper, and the T stomping on a car. There was no answer written beyond that.

“Do you think he actually didn’t know the answer?” Wendy asked with some renewed mirth in her eyes.

Token snickered and handed the exam back. “I get the impression he could have come up with a better answer but couldn’t resist the joke.”

They were silent for a bit as Bebe aligned Kenny’s exams and handed them back to Wendy. “He’s usually lucky to get a C,” Bebe said finally. She wanted the silence to end and wanted Token and Wendy to give some confirmation that they weren’t angry at Kenny.

“He did really well,” Wendy agreed thoughtfully. “I’m really proud of him.”

Token cast his eyes down at his food, and Bebe frowned. Of the two of them, she would have guessed Wendy had more reason to be angry than Token. Then again, Wendy always loved seeing her projects some to fruition. Even if she had been angry at Kenny, he’d probably stroked her ego enough with his grades to earn some semblance of forgiveness.

Any happiness on Wendy’s face disappeared suddenly as a figure approached their table. Bebe twisted around, eager to find Kenny’s cheerful disposition returning to them, but instead she just found Stan Marsh watching Wendy nervously. He glanced down at the paper on the table and raised an eyebrow, and Wendy pulled them in towards herself. “What do you want?”

Stan gulped. He was standing at the head of the table with Token, Bebe and Wendy’s gazes all fixated on him, and Bebe doubted any of them looked happy to see him. It was probably his own fault for trying to corner Wendy around her friends. “I want to help,” he said finally, gesturing at the papers Wendy had clutched in her hands.

He paused for a second as if he had expected a reaction, but Wendy just looked equally wary (but now seemed slightly intrigued). Bebe was confused, but she felt a new sense of relief spreading from her stomach throughout her body. She didn’t know what she was expecting Stan to say, but she knew Kenny had come through without her needing to tell him to. She felt unspeakably lighter with the relief in knowing that Kenny _did_ still deserve her love just as much as she loved him.

Stan frowned a little and repeated himself. “I want to help you with Kenny and Kyle.”


	12. Garbage Mosaics

Kenny hadn’t been stoked about having to wait until Tuesday to get his Psychology exam back. It had been the only one he felt genuinely invested in (in addition to it being his only class with Wendy, Kyle and Stan), and it felt like it was looming over him even in the relief of his other scores.

It felt like there was a lot of shit looming over Kenny. He may not have handled his life in the _best_ way possible recently, but he didn’t think he deserved stress coming from every sector of his life. Wendy hadn’t spoken to him yet, and Stan hadn’t brought up their discussion since Saturday, but Kenny had seen the two of them whispering conspiratorially in the halls. He was pretty sure Token was mad at him for something, and a big part of him wanted to tell that hormonal bitch that he had enough going on without his unfounded anger. On top of that and academic stress, Kenny _was_ hitting the point where he needed a source of income to replace the loss of dealing.

Psych finally heralded a few good pieces of news. Token joked with him, Bebe and Clyde with no noticeable tension. Wendy was seated next to Stan. Kenny could even ignore the fact that Kyle, next to Stan, was shooting him anxious looks every few minutes; he knew telling Stan would inevitably lead to Kyle knowing something, and Kenny would have to live with not knowing exactly what that something was.

All of those worries disappeared as Mr. Lebaschi handed the exams back to the class, and Kenny stared at a red 100 on his paper with momentary shock. A note had been scribbled next to the grade for Kenny to meet with him after class, and Kenny turned bright red and hid the exam from view. If Bebe saw that, she was sure to have a million sex jokes to offer, and Kenny had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he dawdled behind after class that she would have been right.

“Dude, you going in slow motion now? Move it.” Bebe nudged him with her shoulder.

Kenny gulped. “I have a question for Mr. L about my exam. You, Token and Clyde can go home without me. I’ll find my own way back.”

Bebe raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t make any crude jokes. “Okay, dude.”

Clyde clapped him on the shoulder as he shrugged on his Letterman. “See ya tomorrow, Kenny.”

Token gave him a brief nod, and Kenny flashed him a peace sign as the three exited the classroom. A nervous thumping filled his ears as the classroom began to clear out. God, this _wasn’t_ going to be anything sexual, right? He trusted Mr. L more than that. He was probably suspected of cheating or something. Kenny wouldn’t deny he’d deserve it.

He watched silently as Wendy and Stan wished goodbye to Kyle, leaving them the only two students in the classroom. Honestly, if this was going to be something sexual, Kenny couldn’t blame him. They apparently had the exact same choice in under-aged boys.

Kenny would definitely choose to molest himself if he were teaching the class. That was just the definition of self-esteem.

Had something about having sex with Bebe infected him with more political incorrectness than ever before? Kenny honestly had no idea how Bebe could be best friends with a black boy. The shit she said was _awful_ , and it would be a lot worse coming from someone other than a charming, pretty girl.

“Hi, boys! Thank you both so much for waiting. You two can pull up chairs if you want,” Mr. L greeted them enthusiastically, gesturing towards his desk with a beckoning motion. Kenny and Kyle exchanged wary eye contact but did as told. The smile never left Mr. L’s face as he examined the two of them. “I’m sure you both have some sort of guess as to why I asked you here.”

_To exchange a blowjob for a perfect score?_ Fuck. He’d do it, but he wouldn’t suggest it like it was his idea. It was Bebe’s fucked up brain’s influence finally ruining his sense of morals.

Kenny glanced at Kyle to see if he was going to supply an answer, but he just shook his head and watched Mr. L curiously.

His face fell like he’d been expecting more excitement out of the boys. “Well, you two were the two highest scorers on the exam.”

Kyle looked at Kenny in disbelief. “You were the second highest scorer?”

“Why do you assume you were first?” Kenny spat back. _Top my fucking 100, bitch._

Mr. Lebaschi cleared his throat. “I wanted to congratulate you boys. I know in high school it might seem feasible to hope for A’s on everything,” Kenny cast Kyle a disparaging glance, “but I distinctly write my exams to make it very difficult for students to get perfect scores.”

Kyle looked scandalized. South Park High was a shitty, public school in a hick town. If they didn’t inflate grades, the kids would never get into college. Mr. Lebaschi read his look and smiled gently. “That doesn’t mean that I make it difficult to achieve an A in my course. The exams are simply written for the average to be a C.”

There was no way this meeting was called just to stroke their egos. He was leading up to something, and he wanted them to both be on his side when he pitched the idea. “One of my colleagues from SPCC is looking for research assistants, no experience needed. I told him I would refer some of my students to their project.”

Kenny furrowed his brow. “What are they going to do to us?”

“Research _assistants_ , not research subjects,” Kyle responded before Mr. L had a chance. “Right?”

He smiled like the two boys were amusing rather than just rude. “It’s actually a very ambitious project for SPCC to take on; they’re working closely with the psychiatric wing of Hell’s Pass hospital, and I really believe you boys could get your names published in a study if this turns out well.”

Kyle was practically shaking with excitement. The kid was probably imagining telling his mom that his name could get published on a study before graduating high school. If Kenny had a mom who gave a shit, that would probably actually feel really good. At least he had Bebe and hopefully Token to shit their pants for him. “So what’s the project?”

“They’ll be able to explain in better detail if you choose to meet with Dr. Robert about the opportunity, but I gather that it’s going to be a meta analysis of case studies for anorexic patients being treated with techniques commonly reserved for OCD and anxiety disorders.”

Kyle cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “That sounds like a _really_ ambitious project for high schoolers.”

Mr. L laughed lightly. “You two boys are hardly the only people on the project. Some of the research tasks are better suited for high school age students, though. You’ll still learn and contribute a lot.”

That meant they would run errands and occasionally enter data, and it meant the chances that this was a paying position were slim to none. A small fear ignited in Kenny’s stomach at the idea of giving up this project for more time to work a minimum wage job.

“I’d love to be referred to him.” Kyle was nodding eagerly, seemingly ignoring Kenny’s presence in the project. “Dr. Robert at SPCC, you say?”

Kenny wished he could feel the same eagerness Kyle felt. He wished he hadn’t spent his whole life having mortal or nearly mortal accidents and being rushed to Hell’s Pass only to see how inept all the doctors were. He would guess that South Park Community College was the academic world’s biggest joke, but it had produced the best teacher Kenny had ever seen at South Park High. He wished having Kyle there wasn’t a consideration for him as having Kenny there didn’t seem to be for Kyle, and he wished he’d started looking for a job _before_ his drug money started dwindling.

Mainly, he realized hollowly, he wished he had a reason to care about this opportunity. Research experience was never going to be important in Kenny’s life again, and he wouldn’t have any college applications to brag about this on. Somehow that didn’t stop a burning sensation driving him towards the project. “I’d like to be referred, too,” he echoed. Kyle flashed him a suspicious look, but Mr. Lebaschi practically beamed at Kenny.

_He likes me better than Kyle! He likes me better than Kyle!_

“That’s great news, boys. I’ll email him and cc the two of you. Could you both give me your preferred email?” He flipped open a day planner and handed it to Kyle to write down his email, which he did obediently before passing it over to Kenny.

[kyle.broflovski@andover.edu](mailto:kyle.broflovski@andover.edu)? Was this kid fucking for real? Why wouldn’t they have gotten rid of his school email when he left that school? Of course Kyle would keep fucking checking it. Of course it would be his _preferred_ means of contact. Kenny dramatically rolled his eyes to himself as he scribbled [mccormickk@gmail.com](mailto:mccormickk@gmail.com) and passed the pad back to Mr. Lebaschi.

He was suddenly very grateful Wendy had pressured him to make a personal email besides [bong_ripz69@yahoo.com](mailto:bong_ripz69@yahoo.com). Kyle would probably think it was sacrilege to have that email so close to his precious Andover one. He also realized, with a burst of excitement, that he was very genuinely shitting on Kyle. The kid was acting like a tool, and Kenny was admitting it. He couldn’t deny that, this far in, he found it endearing as hell how lame boarding school had made Kyle. Kenny still had fantasies about his friendship undoing its spell and making Kyle fun again, but at least he had admitted to himself that Kyle _could_ do some wrong. Wendy and Bebe would be proud.

Mr. Lebaschi smiled to himself, typing their emails into the cc bar of an email that Kenny realized he had already written. He really must not have expected a “no” from either of them. “I’ll also forward you boys some useful studies and papers that have already been published on the subject. It can’t hurt to know as much about this as possible, right?”

Considering Kenny didn’t know shit about anorexia, OCD, or anxiety disorders, that did sound like it couldn’t hurt. He did used to like the shows Hoarders and My Strange Addiction when he was really stoned, but they were two of many shows he realized bitterly absolutely sucked sober. He could remember vividly the self-hate he experienced when he watched an episode of Family Guy sober, sure that he had thought it was the funniest show in the world two weeks ago. At least Terrance and Phillip was as funny as ever. Those guys transcended drugs.

Kenny snorted out loud as he remembered a classic sketch that involved Phillip farting into a bunch of jars and having them delivered to Terrance, and Mr. Lebaschi flashed him a curious look. “Kenny?”

“Oh, sorry, my mind was drifting. I remembered something funny.”

Kyle snorted derisively and mouthed _second_ at him from across the table.

There was no way Kyle had gotten a perfect score. Kenny had talked about the exam with him; he had to have gotten at least a question wrong. That meant that surreptitiously reaching into his bag to adjust his exam so it would fall out when he stood up was fair game in terms of not being immature. It was just putting his ego in check.

Mr. Lebaschi laughed again. “Care to share or not teacher-friendly?”

God, this guy was great. “It’s only unfriendly to teachers who hate fart jokes,” Kenny admitted.

“I have to say, I do prefer to avoid those.”

“Then I won’t share.” Kenny returned his smile hesitantly. Was this an effort to get to know him at a personal level? Kenny had never had a mature adult figure in his life; he knew he’d be rude and fuck it up somehow. The closest he had was probably the Blacks, and they didn’t exactly approve of him as a friend for Token. Token still hammed up being friends with Craig and Clyde around his parents like friend groups didn’t fucking change from elementary school.

Well, he was still best friends with Craig and Clyde. He liked Kenny better though! Maybe only Kenny’s friend group had fully disintegrated since elementary school, and he’d just nabbed a couple new friends wherever he could. If someone had asked him at age nine if he, Kyle, Stan and Cartman could outlast Token, Craig and Clyde, he would have said “yes” without a second of doubt (except for Cartman, who Kenny easily could have done without for the entirety of their friendship).

“Do you have any idea what kind of time commitment we’d be looking at?” Kyle interrupted, clearly having no difficulty being mature around adults.

“I think you’d be looking at a few days after school at Hell’s Pass and one day of your weekend at SPCC, if I were to guess. You could probably assume more responsibility if time permitted you.”

Well, Kenny was officially (going to be) broke in a matter of weeks. He already knew there was no way he wouldn’t do this, but fucking _shit_. He’d probably have to give up cigarettes now. It hadn’t seemed like such a financial drain with constant drug money, but it was a really expensive habit when Kenny considered his lack of any other luxury purchases.

Kyle nodded understandingly. “That sounds great, Mr. Lebaschi. Thank you so, so much for this opportunity.” He stood up and extended a hand to shake, which Mr. L returned with a slight smirk as if he recognized Kyle’s maturity as rare in a South Park teenager and found it funny.

Kenny locked eyes with him and grinned as he too extended a hand to shake. “Thanks, Mr. L.”

“No problem, you two. I hope this gives you a good excuse to get to know each other; it’s not often you find two boys in this town with an interest in Psychology.”

Kenny frowned. Why did he assume that he didn’t know Kyle? This town was _tiny_. And why did it sound like he purposefully avoided emphasizing _boys_? Still, he gave Mr. L an understanding nod and turned towards the door, genuinely forgetting about the exam slipping out of his bag as he exited the classroom.

***

Kenny was already halfway down the hall by the time Kyle bent to pick up the fallen exam. He glanced quickly at the name and score, eyes widening in disbelief as he raised his eyes to Kenny disappearing down the hall. “ _Second_ ,” he called loudly, and Kenny stopped in his tracks.

Kyle pushed himself to his feet and walked calmly down the hall to Kenny, returning the exam with a wrinkled nose. “Subtle.”

“I’m just better than you at being passive aggressive, too, I guess.” Kenny grinned like a douchebag. “Don’t worry, man. I’ll be able to help you with the project if you need me.”

This time yesterday, a small part of Kyle would have told him that he deserved Kenny’s mockery for the way he’d been treating him in school. Today, a small part of Kyle was _proud_ of Kenny’s scorn.

Of course, he knew what had changed. This time yesterday, Bebe hadn’t cornered him at his locker with Stan hovering nervously behind her and thrust an armful of exams into his arms before stalking off down the hall. What had her exact words been? _He did this for you. I don’t fucking know why, but he did this for you._

Yeah, he couldn’t pretend he was going to forget that.

She had left behind Stan, who had just shrugged helplessly and echoed _I don’t know why_ again and again as Kyle questioned him incessantly the whole drive home. Stan had seemed reluctant to share anything (or had a very limited knowledge of the situation), but he had claimed his only information was what Bebe had given him and the newfound faith that Kenny was a good guy. The next day, Wendy had started talking to and sitting with Stan again, and Kenny had returned all of Kyle’s curious stares with a look of grim understanding.

“I might as well return these too while you’re here.” Kyle frowned, moving his bag to his hip so he could fish around for the stack of exams. “You _really_ wanted to spread the news,” he smirked, feeling the condescension in his own voice as he handed them to Kenny.

Kenny’s eyes widened as he looked them over curiously. “How’d you get these?”

“The stork brought them.”

“Seriously, _who_ gave you these?”

“Bebe Stevens, dude. What’s up with that?”

Kenny grimaced. “Don’t say her last name like she’s a random kid, dude. She’s my best friend.”

“If it makes you feel better, Stan Marsh was with her.” Kyle’s lip curled up imperceptibly. “I meant more “what’s up with that?” in the sense of where the fuck did Bebe and Token come from?” Obviously Kyle was aware of their friend group. They all enjoyed moderate popularity, enhanced by Kenny’s dealing and Token’s ability to throw parties at his mansion, and they were _obnoxious_. Everyone had best friends. Not everyone strode around the halls with arms around Bebe and Token’s shoulders and zero consideration for all the students that bumped into their chain as they tried to sneak past.

Kenny shrugged. “They’re fucking cool. I’m glad they’re around.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow at the exams in Kenny’s hand. “Are you aware she’s pretty fucking in love with you?”

“Don’t say that.” He hadn’t anticipated Kenny looking angry. “You don’t know shit about her.”

“Well, my best friend is dating her best friend so I actually kind of do.”

“Bull-fucking-shit they talk to you about stuff like that.”

Kyle shrugged noncommittally. He had been the one to see the look on Bebe’s face when she tried to talk about Kenny to him. Kenny could believe whatever he wanted to believe. If Bebe was still trying to wingman Kenny, her love or obsession or whatever word teenagers realistically had the right to use was clearly transcending jealousy.

He’d freely admit that it was a little sickening. He hoped he was sickened by general disdain for Kenny and Bebe, but he had a gnawing sense of guilt that he’d inadvertently come between something powerful. Kyle could imagine that it took a lot to love someone so much that you wanted them to be with the person _they_ liked instead. He didn’t have much experience with this. He didn’t really have any experience at all, and he wasn’t even sure what “this” referred to.

Kyle had _no fucking idea_ that this was happening. Even Stan had acted like he was a douche for not realizing, and Kyle couldn’t believe Stan had found out much before he had. The last time Kyle had checked, Kenny was a druggie dickwad who had cheated with Wendy. Now all of a sudden, Bebe fucking Stevens had his best friend convinced that _he_ was some kind of insensitive asshole.

He had recognized the tension between him and Kenny, but he had genuinely just thought it was the awkward adjustment period to having him back in school. Did this make him socially inept?

There had been New Year’s. That had been weird, but it was almost two months ago and had been right after he’d gotten back to South Park. Overall, Kyle had looked at the information that had been provided to him, and it seemed unfair that everyone expected him to have figured this out.

Then again, he was _really_ smart.

“She, uh, said that you did this for me. I don’t really understand what that means,” Kyle blurted out unabashedly. He was probably socially inept. He accepted it.

“Did she say that?” Kenny’s face was weirdly blank. “I don’t either.”

“Is that true?”

Kenny snorted and shook his head.

“Well, good job, I guess. I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to say here.”

He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you in Advanced Social Skills at boarding school?”

“No, I took Latin instead.”

Kenny grinned, and Kyle instinctively returned the gesture. “Salve.” Kenny gave Kyle the Vulcan salute.

“Did you pick that up from Wendy?” Kyle winced internally. Probably a sore subject.

“I did,” Kenny admitted reluctantly. “I kind of wish I’d taken Latin instead of Spanish. I read some of her translations. They were dirty, dirty dudes, weren’t they?”

“They used to make mosaics of garbage to decorate their floors so the real garbage wouldn’t stand out.”

Kenny giggled. “I meant dirty in the other sense of the word, but, damn, I wish my parents had thought of that.”

“It’s not too late. Let’s get some paint brushes,” he blurted out before realizing he had accidentally invited Kenny to make plans with him. Kenny looked noticeably startled, and Kyle turned bright red.

He grinned bitterly like he realized it was an accidental invitation. “That would involve cleaning up the real garbage first. We’re both too lazy for that.”

Kyle nodded in relief. “True. I like you enough to paint for you – I draw the line at cleaning.” His eyes widened instantly. Where was his fucking censor today? Even Kenny looked like he thought Kyle was being weird.

“Glad to know where I fall on the spectrum,” he said finally. “Is this conversation done?”

Kyle nodded mutely.

“I’ll let you know if it gets clean enough to earn your painting.” Kenny rolled his eyes and buried his hands in his pockets as he began to walk away.

Kyle groaned to himself, noticing Kenny miss a step as the sound escaped his lips. “Have I been an asshole, dude? I feel like whenever I’m around anyone here, I’m doing the wrong thing, and I _don’t fucking get it_.” He’d had his share of misgivings about coming back to South Park, but he never imagined _he’d_ be labeled an asshole in a school with Eric Cartman.

Kenny paused, not turning back. “I think you just belong at your old school,” he muttered finally.

“I think so, too.”

Kenny heaved a sigh and looked back towards Kyle. “I’m sorry this happened to you, then. I’m not going to pretend you belong in South Park. You don’t want me to.”

“Everything seemed so easy here as a kid.” Kyle bit his bottom lip. Kenny’s attention had been effectively recaptured, and a nagging voice told Kyle he should have ended the conversation when he could have. “I remember shitting on the new kids and thinking, like, “ _wow, how aren’t they getting it?”_. It really seemed like our life was the only life that made sense.”

“My drug dealer was a towel until sophomore year.”

“Yeah, I didn’t realize that was weird until I was in a place where towels didn’t walk around smoking joints all the time. They made fun of me for not fitting in when I got to New York, too. You know what the counselor told me to do?”

Kenny raised an eyebrow with interest.

“He told me to be overly nice until they accepted me. He literally thought I was Pip.”

“We’re not allowed to make fun of him anymore, remember? He died.”

“Rip,” Kyle replied seamlessly, earning a real laugh from Kenny.

“So when did you stop being South Park Kyle?” Kenny looked genuinely interested.

“In their eyes, I didn’t. I was always the poor kid. It’s different there, though. People didn’t rip on each other like they do here. I didn’t think I’d miss it, but it actually makes that stuff a lot worse when people think your problems are too bad to talk about. No one brought up that I had less money than them even though it was abundantly obvious because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“Being ripped on for being poor isn’t that fun, I promise.”

“Is it better than all your friends acting like any reference to money in front of you is rude? Come on. Imagine if Token acted like he pitied you.”

Kenny nodded slowly. “So why did you like it there so much?”

“I fit in other than being a token of socioeconomic diversity. At least, I learned how to. Why can’t I fucking learn how to fit in here?”

Kenny grinned widely. “You can’t fake South Park-level stupidity like you can fake New York-level intelligence.”

“You say that like you know New York.”

“Man, I don’t need to go anywhere else in the world to know South Park is full of some of the dumbest people God’s created. I do include myself in that.”

“You’re clearly not dumb.” Kyle glanced at Kenny’s bag as if reminding him about the exam grades.

Kenny scoffed. “Those prove nothing, and they change nothing. I like being South Park-level dumb. You aren’t, and you seem unhappy.” He paused, his hand fidgeting around something in his pocket. “Want to come out for a smoke with me?”

Kyle wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “I’ll come bask in your secondhand smoke, though.”

He followed Kenny down the hall as he gracefully slipped a Marlboro and honest-to-God whale bone cigarette extender out of his pocket. He was inhaling to light the cigarette before they even reached the doors outside, and Kyle felt a little prick of anxiety at the sight of the lighter in the hallway (even if they were mere feet from the door). Kenny smiled at him after taking the first drag and leaning against the school building. “This is better aesthetically for serious conversations,” he explained needlessly.

“Are you actually stupid enough to smoke for aesthetics?”

“That was a fucking joke, dude. I’m just anxious as hell right now.”

Kyle didn’t expect honesty to _that_ degree. Stan was like that, too. It was like the kids in this town were never taught that not every thought should be vocalized. Kyle couldn’t tell if he thought that was admirable or not. “Does smoking help with anxiety?”

“Only once you’re addicted.” Kenny smirked. “You anxious, too?”

“What am I supposed to be anxious about again?”

“I think when we left off, you didn’t fit in anywhere and didn’t like me enough to clean my house for me.”

Kyle’s lips parted in surprise. “I think we were past the house cleaning part.”

“Yeah, but that’s in the Kyle and Kenny conversational highlights reel.”

“Would _you_ clean _my_ house for me?” Kyle asked incredulously, ignoring the fear that Kenny actually would.

“Babe, I’ll keep your home any day.” Kenny looked like he wanted to laugh for a second, but his face remained very serious. “Seriously, though, don’t ask questions like that. It’s rude. I think I’ve shown exactly what I’m willing to do for you.”

Kyle fully gaped at the other boy. “I wasn’t teasing you or anything.”

He shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette. “Intent doesn’t matter as much as reception in this case. Learn some fucking tact.”

“Here I was laboring under the misapprehension that it was the thought that counted.”

Kenny let his hand drop to his side. “You should listen to yourself for a bit. It’d probably give you a better idea as to why you haven’t gotten the warm reception you think you deserve.”

“What does that mean?”

He frowned down at the build-up of ash on his cigarette like he didn’t really see it. “I mean, you talk like a douchebag. “ _Laboring under the misapprehension_ ”. You aren’t Colin Firth. You also have an exceptionally poor ability to guess how your words are going to affect others, and I don’t think you even realize how often you put your foot in your mouth.”

“That sounds like most Colin Firth characters to me.”

Kenny groaned. “And then sometimes you seem fucking cool and normal, and I don’t understand, dude. I can’t fucking keep up with you.”

“I don’t want this either, Kenny! I was just figuring out who I was outside of South Park, and now I have to figure that out _in_ South Park.”

“Why can’t you in South Park just be you?” He raised the cigarette to his lips once again, but he froze with it there. “You don’t need to answer that.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t want you in South Park to be you. I don’t want to make you say it.” He finally remembered to take a drag and ash the cigarette. “It’ll be over soon. You’ll be able to go on your own terms.”

Kyle nodded, his shoulders slumping a little. Kenny was acting like he had to be put out of his misery here or something. “I wasn’t sure how to say that out loud.”

“Don’t worry. I got you.”

Kyle tugged on his sleeve nervously, summoning the courage to say the words he knew he had to say as soon as Bebe had cornered him. “You get why, then, if I’m gonna leave?” His voice faltered. He looked to Kenny to understand what he meant without him saying it, and Kenny nodded a little. “Thanks, dude.”

Kenny waved him off. “You never owed me anything.”

“I feel like I do.”

“That’s a mistake on my part, not yours.”

Kyle frowned and leaned himself against the wall next to Kenny. “Leaving people really sucks, Kenny. I had to do it to my friends twice before, and I know it’s coming up again in a year.”

“I said I get it. I’m not going to validate it.” Kyle looked at him questioningly, and Kenny glared stoically ahead. “As I said, you don’t realize how you affect others. If you don’t think you’re being a selfish fuck, then don’t think that.”

“How is this selfish?” Kyle burst out. “You’re never going to have to learn how it feels to start over. A McCormick out of South Park would literally be a fish on land.”

Kenny looked horrified. “ _A McCormick_?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Fuck yourself, Kyle.” Kenny put his cigarette out against the brick wall, letting the embers fall to his and Kyle’s feet. “I can’t believe I tried to sugarcoat this for you.”

“That was you sugarcoating it?”

Kenny stepped away from the wall and turned to glare at him directly. “You’re a social climber, and your ego is so big now you don’t even realize you’re doing it. You think you deserve to be accepted wherever you are _even_ while retaining a superiority complex. You think you’re a martyr because you got pitied by some rich kids, but you so obviously pity everyone in this town, and I can speak for South Park when I say _we don’t want pity_. Then you try to act like you’re avoiding relationships so you don’t get hurt when you leave them behind, but you’re acting like it isn’t _entirely_ your choice whether or not you leave them behind.”

Things like this were why Kyle didn’t understand why _he_ seemed rude by South Park standards. Kenny was allowed to fully assassinate his character, and he was the fucking underdog. “How long you’ve been keeping that in for?”

Kenny frowned at his sarcasm. “About ten minutes.”

“What was your analysis before ten minutes ago?”

“I genuinely believed you were too good for South Park. Now I just think you’re full of it.”

Kyle narrowed his eyes. “You realize that if I said something like this about you, you’d probably convince everyone I was a huge bastard.”

“Go at me, Kyle. It’s only fair.”

Kenny met his gaze challengingly, and Kyle took a deep breath. “You are immature and sheltered. How much do you think South Park contributes to the real world? We have a _pretty good_ dairy industry and an insane scientist’s genetic research laboratory. Humanity literally would not progress except for more and more animals with extraneous asses if it were left to the people of this town. You’re a fucking microcosm of this town – you’re going to contribute absolutely nothing to a town that contributes barely anything to America. I wouldn’t try to make you feel bad for not having any ambitions if you didn’t keep acting like it’s an option for all of us. _Some_ people have to actually work to change the world while everyone else sells weed in their hometowns.”

“Oh, okay, how are you planning on changing the world?”

“At least I’m going to be part of a real profession.”

“I can guarantee that my drug dealing made more people happy than your lawyering will.”

“That’s not happiness.”

“What is happiness, then? Spending time with your friends? No, it can’t be that if you’re going to achieve it without anyone at all. Getting good grades to impress your parents? I’ve gotten a good grade, and I bet it was more exciting for me than it was for you, and it was still fleeting.” Kenny took a large step away from Kyle, eyes at risk of bursting into flame at any second. “Why don’t you do yourself a favor and admit that you hate yourself now so you don’t have to be sad and hopeless when you realize at age forty?”

Kyle shifted his gaze deliberately to the ground and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “It just kind of feels like you’re explaining to me _why_ I should hate myself.”

Kenny sounded irritated. “That wouldn’t make sense. I don’t hate you. I don’t want you to feel this way. I just think you do.”

“So stop saying this if you don’t hate me.”

“I’m just trying to get Kyle back, dude,” he replied softly.

“You have Kyle back. Jesus Christ. You’re acting like I abducted your friend.”

“You kind of did, okay? Kyle was my friend when he left. You came back.”

His heart was twisting around nervously, and Kyle briefly wondered if a cigarette would be able to cure that. “I am Kyle, and I don’t think I fit into your life here, Kenny. You act like I’m the only one who changed. I didn’t expect you to be selling drugs with Token and Bebe.”

“I changed my life so you could fit into it.”

Kyle looked away from the pavement. Kenny didn’t seem angry anymore. He was just sad, and Kyle didn’t know which of the two he preferred. “I appreciate that.”

“Do you?”

“I wish you wouldn’t assign me some sense of obligation to you.”

“Have I ever said that you owe me something?”

Kyle shook his head.

“Yeah.” Kenny rolled his eyes and fumbled around in his pocket. Kyle assumed he was going for another cigarette, but he just glanced quickly at his phone and shoved it back into the jacket. “I’m going to go smoke with Token and Bebe. I’m over this.”

Kyle bit his bottom lip hesitantly. Was he right to look down on Kenny and his friends for wasting their lives being stoned the whole time? Yes. He really believed he was. Did he owe Kenny something for giving that life up just to get closer to Kyle? Unfortunately, yes. He owed him a chance, and it seemed like Kyle was about to miss _his_ chance. “Can I come?”

Kenny looked at him, surprise dominating all other emotions. “I mean weed.”

“I’m aware.”

“Dude, I didn’t mean to imply that drugs would make you happy. I wouldn’t wish that mindset on anyone.”

Kyle straightened himself up and eyed Kenny expectantly. “I know. I thought you implied you would make me happy.”

His eyebrows shot up so quickly Kyle could’ve laughed if he weren’t so worried he’d be left behind in the parking lot. Finally, Kenny nodded and gestured with his head for Kyle to follow him. “Don’t act like I’m peer pressuring you, though. Drugs don’t make you cool.” He shot a grin over his shoulder at Kyle. “You’re just cool if you want to do drugs.”

***

Token had endured a lot of fucked up shit since he became friends with Kenny and Bebe. In sixth grade, they had hot-boxed his bathroom while Token had been downstairs helping his mom get dinner ready. In seventh grade, Kenny had spammed him with photos of blue waffles nearly every day for a month. In eighth grade, Bebe had spat on her ex and decided it was an empowering feeling so she began to spit on people rather than just flip them off like a normal person. In ninth grade, he had walked in on Craig and Tweek’s hot mess of a hookup on _his_ bed during one of Bebe’s impromptu “Token’s House Parties”. In tenth grade, Bebe had tried to hook him up with her cousin, and the girl had tried to stick a dry finger up his ass. Token hadn’t liked that.

Really, he’d been in or witnessed his fair share of shit since the friendship began. Kenny and Bebe could do very little to surprise him anymore. His expectations for them were fairly low, and he’d gotten to know them both well enough to anticipate their characteristic responses.

Anticipating Kenny’s characteristic responses, however, meant anticipating the kid acting as idiotically as possible half the time. Maybe Kenny’s work over the past two months had raised Token’s expectations for him, but he’d been “surprising him” (because “letting him down” sounded too harsh even in Token’s head) more often recently. It had been surprising when Kenny fell for Kyle at all. It had been surprising how religiously he followed Wendy’s instructions, and it had been surprising that he hadn’t seen him coming in between her and Stan. It had been surprising as hell that Kenny would treat Bebe like a one-night stand. None of those things seemed shocking in the slightest, though, next to the image of Kenny grinning as Kyle struggled with lighting a bowl until Kyle gave him a desperately frustrated look, and Kenny took over, holding the bowl in position and lighting it for him, as he gave gentle breathing instructions.

Token glanced around the room for some confirmation that this was the weirdest thing he had ever seen. Bebe, sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, was watching them with huge eyes as Wendy stroked her hair comfortingly from the couch and exchanged a mildly impressed look with Stan, sitting next to her although carefully not making any physical contact. Fuck, dude. It was weird enough that Token, Bebe and Kenny time had become Token, Bebe, Kenny, Stan, Wendy, and Kyle time. Watching Kyle Broflovski let Kenny wrap his arms around him so he could _smoke weed_ was crossing some sort of line. Nothing would ever surprise him again.

He couldn’t help agreeing with Wendy and Stan’s impressed little smirks. It was like Kenny had worked two months to get to this boy then brought him back with him. If Token could remember the name of Orpheus’s wife in that damn Greek thing, he would’ve compared it to that. Actually, he was _pretty sure_ that story ended up being a tragedy. Whatever. That part could fit too for all he knew.

Stan interrupted the fascinated silence, applauding slowly as Kyle breathed out a stream of smoke and sank into a coughing fit. “Kyle Broflovski’s first hit, ladies and gentlemen.”

Kenny grinned at him. “Have you ever smoked?”

“I’m not playing sports _every_ season.”

“If I ever have to get drug tested, and it happens to be football season, I hope I can always count on you for clean piss.”

Stan flipped him off, trying to hide a smile. “I would smoke weed that week _just_ to keep my piss away from you.”

Kenny unwrapped his arm, passing the bowl past Kyle to Bebe. Kyle, who was beginning to recover in ragged gasps, watched it go like it was some magical object. He pulled his eyes away to meet Kenny’s, and the immature dweeb began to snicker madly.

“Were you not going to ask if I was okay or anything?” Kyle sounded a little too dazed to be pissed, but he was trying.

Kenny shrugged. “Dude, I’ve coughed before. I don’t like when people pay attention to me while it happens.”

Bebe nodded in agreement. “It’s like everyone knows you’re okay because everyone’s done it, but people still get really uncomfortable and try to offer help even though they know from personal experience that you just gotta tough it out. Feels awkward.”

“I’d offer water if I had it,” Token murmured half-heartedly. Kyle didn’t even make the vibes better. At least the addition of Stan and Wendy was cute because couples were always cute while they were happy. He’d texted Clyde and Craig as soon as he realized Kenny and Bebe were bringing their friends over, but neither of them had responded (or shown up without responding, which fit Craig’s “live every day to the dickiest” motto).

Bebe held the bowl out to Token, but he shook his head and gestured to the rolling papers and grinder in front of him. He fucking hated bowls. They seemed unsanitary and clunky, and they didn’t even hit especially well. Token had made his position on them quite clear.

“When did you become a grumpy grandpa?” she asked, reading his face.

He forced himself to grin. “I come from a long line of grumpy grandfathers, I’ll have you know.”

“When I imagine your extended family, should I be imagining like a wacky crowd where every relative is actually you in a different outfit or should I be imagining like really waspy where you’re actually Token Black the Sixth?”

Token burst out laughing without fully registering what she’d said. Everyone in the room was laughing except Bebe, who struggled to keep a straight face as she looked at Token expectantly. “So?”

“All my relatives are me in costumes,” he admitted.

“I was hoping it would be that one.”

Token didn’t get it. He didn’t freak out at black jokes; that was a useless reaction, but he rarely found them funny or charming. Somehow Bebe had been given the ability to say whatever horrible thing she wanted, and he would still find it funny. That girl said some really fucked up shit. “I also don’t think you actually know what WASP means because I’m really none of those things.”

“WASP is like faggot. You don’t need to be a WASP to be waspy, and being a WASP doesn’t mean you’re waspy. Feel? Like Kyle _is_ waspy, but he is not a WASP.”

“I’m waspy?”

“I’ve figured it out, and Bebe is using _waspy_ synonymously with _has a stick up ass_ ,” Wendy piped up from the couch. Stan burst out laughing, and she blushed. “Not that I’m saying that about Kyle! Just that Bebe is misusing a word when there’s already a word for the sentiment that she’s trying to express.”

“Oh, that’s definitely what I’m saying about Kyle.” Bebe made a mocking peace sign. “Sorry.”

Kenny wrapped his arm around Kyle protectively and raised the bowl to his lips without warning. He gave Bebe a warning glare as he lit it for Kyle, and Bebe sank further down against the couch.

He was pretty sure he wanted to punch him. Token was pretty sure that’s what that feeling was.

The fucking sad part was Token didn’t know if this was everything ending up as they’d hoped. If so, was he the one who was destined to end up feeling shitty? Stan and Wendy might have been dating again; they were friends at least, and Token wasn’t that interested in details about their relationship. Kenny had convinced Kyle to be something. Token was completely unnerved by their dynamic, but they were definitely something, and Bebe was never going to _stop_ being his friend.

He mutely passed a joint around the circle as they talked like this new group was anything other than _weird as shit_. Were they forgetting that Token was not childhood friends with Stan and Kyle? Eventually, his own childhood friends showed up, and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

Well, it wasn’t like they were completely random like Stan and Kyle. Craig, Clyde and Tweek were around whenever Token, Bebe and Kenny started worrying that they were only friends with each other. Clyde probably would have been around as much as any of them if it weren’t for football team obligations and juggling the friendships that resulted from that. It still made Token feel like he had people there who were on his side.

“Is he high?” Craig asked bluntly, gesturing at Kyle. He reached forward and grabbed the joint from Kenny, interrupting their steady rotation, and passing it between him and Tweek before giving it back.

“I forget how charming you are sometimes when I don’t see you for awhile. Yeah, dude, he’s pretty fucking high.” Kenny sounded a little proud of himself. He had made Token turn on old Flaming Lips albums, which was a move Token recognized as Kenny trying to prove he liked psychedelic shit more than he actually did. It looked like his plan or whatever had worked; Kyle was totally mesmerized by the music. Or some thought. Whatever it was, the kid was just staring into space. He looked pink-eyed, happy and thoughtful, and Token doubted Kenny had hoped for a better reaction.

Craig eyed Kyle suspiciously. “Weird,” he finally declared before taking a spot next to Token.

Token was so fucking glad he was here.

“Is he a narc?” Tweek whispered to Craig, squawking voice making sure everyone in the room heard the question.

Ah, hell, Token was glad both of them were here.

Kenny flipped them off. “You can’t be a dick to someone while it’s their first time getting high. That’s like the oath. First highs should be made as tight as possible.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Clyde muttered, settling in on the floor next to Bebe.

“My first time getting high sucked!” Tweek squeaked defensively.

Craig nodded. “My first time sucked because I was taking care of his shitty first time.”

“It’s like my heart wants to think you two are adorable, but my brain wants to think you two are assholes,” Kenny mused quietly, and Kyle snickered in agreement.

The intimacy of the group had definitely been diffused successfully. For some reason, Token had thought that was going to take care of all of the problems. It didn’t make it any less weird to watch Kenny tracing Kyle’s hand, and it didn’t make him miss when it was just the three of them any less.

He barely paid attention to what people were doing until Kenny was clapping him on the shoulder, saying “let’s make moves!” like Token was supposed to have been part of some plan.

“What?”

“We’re going to play video games. Get out of the chair unless you’re gonna play.”

“Fuck you, dude, I’m so comfortable.”

“This is a prime gaming spot. I’m not giving it up.”

Token rolled his eyes and stood up from the couch so Kenny and Kyle could occupy it. Clyde had shifted away from Bebe so he could see the screen better so Token moved to her other side.

Bebe immediately pulled him into a tight hug. “Fuck, dude, I thought you were, like, my lost puppy all the way across the circle. That fucking sucked.”

Token hugged back because somehow that was totally what it inarticulately felt like.


End file.
